Legacy: Book One Prophecy Boy
by Robert P. Allison
Summary: *UPDATED* Highlander X-Over After the murder of Darius, MacLeod and Dawson send a boy to hide in Sunnydale from rogue Watcher, James Horton. But who is this boy, and what secret does he bring with him? And how will this secret affect the Scooby Gang?
1. Prologue

Title: Prophecy Boy  
Author: Robert P. Allison  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Willow/Other, Buffy/Angel, Xander/Cordelia  
Category: Highlander/BTVS crossover  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander is the property of Rysher Entertainment.  
Distribution: Please, but ask first.  
Spoilers: Everything prior to 'Prophecy Girl' for Buffy. Not sure about the timeline of Highlander, but I think it's approximately between the 1st and 2nd seasons. It's an 'alternate universe' so any timeline or canon differences have been adjusted to fit the story.  
  
Thanks to Nick, Suzanne, Daisy and Carla for all their wonderful ideas and motivation. I couldn't have done this without you, guys.  
  
This is my first attempt at a story. Please be kind. Criticism is   
appreciated, but flames will shatter my fragile ego.

**__**

Legacy

by Robert P. Allison

__

Prologue…

St. Joseph's Cathedral

Paris, France

****

The monastery was damp, musty and deathly quiet, and while none of these things were completely out of the ordinary, the hairs on the back of Duncan MacLeod's neck stood on end. Something was very wrong, he just knew it. After a moment's contemplation, he realized what was missing. He could not sense the presence of an Immortal.

Darius.

The highlander scanned the room, but found the main chamber was empty, though he could see the wooden pews near the front were broken and shifted. Slow, tentative steps gave way to desperate strides. "DARIUS!" He roared, seeing his friend's headless body splayed out near the pulpit.

He rushed to the dais, cradling the headless form in his arms, unclotted crimson blood pouring over and staining his brown leather jacket through to his white silk shirt and leaving a damp, sticky sensation on his skin. "OhGodOhGodOhGod… Oh, God no, Darius, what have they done?" His shock turned into a fit of sobbing, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid looking at the head lying on the dusty stone floor only a few feet away. In the distance, he heard sirens getting louder and more persistent.

Making an effort to stifle the remainder of his tears, he stood and prepared himself to receive the police. Turning his head, a flicker of motion caught his eye. In a shadowy corner, a young boy had huddled himself into a ball, his arms wrapped protectively around his knees, rocking back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. His normally pale skin was pallid and sickly, and the area around his eyes was red with recently shed tears. He appeared not to notice Duncan's arrival, though the stunned and dismayed look on his face spoke volumes to Duncan. It was obvious the boy had witnessed Darius' murder.

"Brian?," he called out to the boy, slowly crossing the distance between them. "Brian, son, come on out of there." Duncan motioned with a wave of his hand, but the boy refused to budge. "Come on." Frowning, Duncan reached down and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, careful to avoid getting blood on him and hoping to bring the teenager out of his shock. Finally the boy broke free of his horror and looked up to his "Uncle" Duncan.

"They killed him, Duncan. I… saw it. I saw it all." He sniffled a moment, reexperiencing the moment in his head in agonizingly slow detail. "He just… sat there while they… they cut his head off! He just… let them do it. He didn't even fight back." Duncan pulled the boy to his feet, and holding him with all his might, no longer caring about the bloodstains he was transferring.

"Who did it? Who killed him?"

Brian shrugged noncommittally. "Bunch of guys in business suits, one of them had a tattoo on his wrist. The leader was about my height, average build, light blonde-brown hair… he had a sword."

Duncan tensed at the description of the renegade Watcher James Horton, and he inwardly screamed. He silently vowed to avenge Darius' murder. "Did they see you?"

"Who? The guy with the tattoo?" Duncan nodded. "Yeah." Brian nodded mechanically.

Duncan winced as the sirens were getting louder. "Okay, here's what I want you to do. Go to Amanda's. And don't stop for anyone, not even cops. Understand? And you wait for me. If Lucy or Amanda aren't there, then I want you to pick the lock. And don't look at me like I don't know all about Amanda teaching you. So go. And don't look back, I'll take care of this." Brian broke away quickly and tore off for the back exit, never looking back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Duncan sat heavily against a cold stone bench across the street from the Cathedral. The police had questioned him for nearly an hour. Lost in his thoughts, he never noticed the arrival of his one-time friend and Watcher, Joe Dawson. Duncan looked up just as Dawson leaned against his cane and positioned his artificial legs awkwardly to allow himself to sit on the bench, his thick salt-and-pepper hair blowing haphazardly in the strong breeze. "Dawson." MacLeod bit out as an angry warning.

Dawson put up a hand to forestall any argument. "Peace, Mac. I got here as soon as I heard. I'm sorry."

MacLeod bit back the angry retort that perched on his lips. "Thanks, Joe."

Dawson put a hand on Mac's shoulder. "It was Horton, I know. I trusted him. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you said that already."

"Hmmm, yeah. I actually came to see if there was anything I can do."

"Don't you think you've done enough?" MacLeod snapped, shrugging Dawson's hand off his shoulder.

"Mac! Come on! This is me you're talking to."

"Yeah, and that makes me wonder how long I've been blind to this. Does that make me an abomination to you, too?"

Dawson gaped. "Mac! Mac, come on. We've known each other for years. And you know I'd never violate my oath!"

Duncan's reaction was a slight upturn of his eyebrow. "Which oath would that be? Oh, you mean the non-interference Watcher oath that you've broken on how many occasions? That oath?"

"And with good reason, MacLeod. I've saved your Immortal ass several times doing it." Joe shot back.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Duncan grudgingly admitted.

"So what're you going to do about Brian?" Dawson asked.

Mac looked up sharply at Joe's question. "I don't know yet. But he's not safe here, and I don't think he's safe with me, either."

Dawson nodded slowly, stroking his graying goatee. "Or Amanda, for that matter. In fact, I don't think he's safe near any Immortal, right now." He turned to his Immortal friend. "But I think I might have an idea where no one would look for him."

Duncan scowled for a moment, then looked to the seemingly older man with suspicion. "Where?"

**__**

Dramatis Personae

Starring…

Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers

Nicholas Brendon as Xander Harris

Alyson Hannigan as Willow Rosenberg

Charisma Carpenter as Cordelia Chase

David Boreanaz as Angel

Anthony Stewart Head as Rupert Giles

and

Chris Klein as Brian Wilson

Also Starring…

Adrian Paul as Duncan MacLeod

Elizabeth Gracen as Amanda Montrose

Christopher Lambert as Conner MacLeod

Jim Byrnes as Joe Dawson

Werner Stocker as Darius

Lisa Barbuscia as Kate MacLeod

Kristine Sutherland as Joyce Summers

Dean Butler as Hank Summers

Michelle Trachtenberg as Dawn Summers

Julia Ormond as Catherine Chase

Stephen Collins as Carlton Chase

Lee Garlington as Jessica Harris

Casey Sander as Anthony Harris

Jordan Baker as Sheila Rosenberg

F. Murray Abraham as Ira Rosenberg

Robia LaMorte as Jenny Calendar

Armin Shimerman as Principal Snyder

Mercedes McNab as Harmony Kendall

Danny Strong as Jonathan Levinson

Larry Bagby III as Larry Blaisedale

Mark Metcalf as the Master

Peter Hudson as James Horton

Jessica Biel as Jessica Tydings

Ralph Fiennes as David Scott-Thomas

Andrew J. Ferchland as Colin, the Anointed


	2. Chapter One

**__**

Book One: Prophecy Boy

Chapter One

'How does it feel?

To be on your own

With no direction home

And a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone…'

Bob Dylan, 'Like A Rolling Stone'

Three Months Later…

****

Brian cast his eyes up into the clear blue California sky, shielding his eyes with an extended hand from the glaring brightness of the early spring morning. The sun shone with an intensity he had never known in all his travels with Uncle Duncan or Uncle Conner or Aunt Amanda. Of all the places his 'family' took him, none quite had the same sensation of the warm California sun or the light westerly breeze on his face. To him, it was like coming home. Somehow he knew, this was where he belonged. He smiled to himself and hefted another box of knickknacks from the moving van and headed into his new home.

Willow Rosenberg drew back the filmy white curtains and peered out the kitchen window and spotted the large yellow Ryder truck in the driveway of Jesse's old house. It had been over six weeks since Buffy had come to Sunnydale, though the pain and guilt of Jesse's death and subsequent resurrection had not yet passed. Xander told her he still caught himself waiting at Jesse's locker before homeroom or reaching for the phone to call him and tell him a new joke or a secret about a girl he liked. The things he couldn't tell Buffy or Willow.

Brushing away the still tender memories, she noticed her morning bagel smoking in the toaster. With a startled curse, she swatted at the lever to release the charred remains and waved away the acrid smoke that was building up. Ignoring the overdone roll for a moment, she looked out to the window again, and her breath caught in her throat at the young man who bounded out of the truck's cabin, nearly skipping to the wide open front door.. '_Wow, he's cute_,' she thought absently while a warm buzz radiated out of her stomach.

Her breakfast completely forgotten, she checked her appearance. She grimaced at the purple denim overall shorts and yellow baby seal t-shirt. '_God, I look like the Joker! I seriously need to talk to Buffy about updating my wardrobe._'Though it didn't stop her from sprinting out of the house to greet her new neighbor.

Brian, hefting a large cardboard box of clothes, sprung off the side of the extended metal ramp and collided with the petite redhead, knocking both of them gracelessly to the asphalt driveway. "Ooof!" Willow grunted under the impact and found herself covered in… boxer shorts. She sat up, braced by her hands and examined the offending garments, a deep red blush staining her cheeks.

Brian looked up, a pair of blue shorts with white stars hung loosely over his head. He saw Willow sprawled across the driveway fondling his underwear. "I'm gonna need those back… eventually." He announced slowly and with a smirk, with only the slightest trace of a Scottish accent in his voice. "Though I have to admit, they look better on you than me. Are you alright?"

She laughed weakly, though it was mostly a squeak at first and the blush made its way further across her face to include her ears and nose. "Yeah, I'm okay. A little mortified, but with time I think I should recover. I'm Willow Rosenberg."

He stood and smiled down to her, extending a hand to help her stand. "I'm Brian Wilson." She accepted his hand and stood shakily, boxers shorts falling off her like rain. She peeled the remaining underwear off of her while Brian placed them in the box at his feet. Finally, Willow reached for the one on Brian's head, which he wore like a makeshift crown. "You know," Brian continued. "I'm really sorry 'bout that. I did'nae see you there. I guess I should watch where I'm going. And I think finding out what kind of underwear I own is at least a third date activity." A voice that sounded suspiciously like Amanda spoke inside his head, needling him. '_Third date? Brian, you're gonna scare her off talking like that. Stop acting like Conner and just be yourself._'

Willow squeaked louder this time, and Brian laughed out loud. "I'm really sorry about knocking you down, though. Let's go inside and get you cleaned up." Brian slammed the ramp back into its sheath under the truck's cabin and pulled down the sliding door.

Willow nodded absently, attempting to remain calm and prevent the onset of hyperventilation. She kept hearing Buffy's voice in her head saying _'Seize the moment, 'cause tomorrow you might be dead_._'_ Brian guided her through the sparsely decorated living room, a stereo in the corner had Rob Thomas and Matchbox 20 croon softly despite the large speakers mounted high in the corners, and into the bathroom down the hall. She hid a smile at Brian's attempts at leading her through a house she had been in hundreds of times in her lifetime, though to be honest the house looked and felt completely different with its new occupant. '_Cleaner, maybe_' she thought with a nod to herself. More like the terrible memories of Jesse's death were finally purged from the house. She washed the black asphalt stains off her hands in the master bathroom while Brian left to put his clothes away. "This is a nice house, Brian."

"Thanks." Brian voice echoed down the hall.

"So, where're your parents?" She asked in a way of making small talk. When she didn't hear an answer, she turned to the door only to find Brian there, a sad expression on his face. She moved close to him, any hesitation in her step gone. "Did I say something wrong, Brian?"

He shook his head softly. "Nah, I'm fine."

"Oh, okay. So, where's your mom and dad?"

Brian shrugged, his shoulders retreating inward. "That's a very good question. As far as I know, I don't have any parents."

Willow paled. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I mean, I didn't know. A-are you okay?" Unconsciously, she reached out to him to comfort him, her hand reaching for his shoulder.

"I'm fine." Brian responded a little shortly, though not meaning to be so harsh. At her look, he apologized and waved her to a new-looking black leather couch while he sprawled bonelessly across the matching love seat, propping his feet up on the arm. Willow thought it looked rather expensive. She also had noticed that he had removed the dirty and worn beige-colored carpeting that Jesse's parents had never bothered to replace, or wash as she had once thought. There was a nice lacquered hardwood floor underneath and she idly hoped that Brian would leave it that way. She was brought out of her musings at the sound of Brian's voice. She looked up quickly, blinking away the cobwebs. "No, seriously. I'm an orphan. I've never known who my father or mother really were. From what Father Darius said, Uncle Duncan and Aunt Amanda found me and took me to him when I was a baby."

Willow looked puzzled for a moment. "Father Darius?"

Brian smiled sadly. "He was the priest who took me in and raised me for the most part. I grew up at St. Joseph's Cathedral in Paris, though I spent most of my summers with Duncan or my other uncle, Conner."

"Duncan? Amanda? Conner? Who're they?"

"Friends of Darius. After a while, I guess I just considered them all my family. They would always take me places. New York, Hong Kong and…"

"Hong Kong? They took you to China?"

Brian shrugged. "Well, technically Hong Kong is a British protectorate until 2000, but yeah… China."

Willow leaned forward. "What was it like?"

"Bright and noisy. I was only five, so I don't remember a whole lot."

"Wow. That's so… wow. The farthest I ever got was when my mom and dad took me to the Grand Canyon when I was eight. So where else have you been?"

Brian shrugged. "Oh, here and there. Amanda liked to take me somewhere new every summer. When I was eight, she took me to Rome and Venice. That was really nice, y'know. It's cooler there, Paris gets really hot during the summer, especially in a big stone church with no air conditioning."

"Wow, that's so neat. You've gone all over the world. And you can speak Italian?" Willow asked with undisguised wonder.

"Not all over the world, really. Going from Paris to Rome would be like… going from Sunnydale to the Grand Canyon, I guess. French, yes, Italian, _comme ci comme ca_." He waggled his palm, torquing it in a side-to-side motion for emphasis. "And I'm fluent in Latin and English. It's hard not to learn Latin in a Catholic Church. Darius made certain I studied other cultures. He told me it would help me to understand and appreciate them better. So he made me learn all these languages. How about you? _Parlez vous Francais_?"

Willow leaned forward in her seat. "Well, I'll be taking French next year at school and I'm taking Latin now. So yeah, I guess I can. But not so much, 'cause there's all those words I don't know yet, like 'Hello' and 'Good-bye' and things like that. Ummm… so what was your favorite place to visit?" She finished quickly, trying to steer the subject away from her lack of proficiency in French.

He pondered the question for a moment, smiling at her change in subject. "Oh, Rome was great and I loved the food, but Ireland was the best, though don't let Conner or Duncan hear that. They're both from Scotland. I suppose there's a rivalry thing going on there or something. But when I was twelve, I spent a whole summer with Amanda in Dublin, Edinburgh and Belfast, though that's technically Northern Ireland. What was really cool was Amanda introducing me to U2. I got autographs and pictures and everything." He motioned to a silver-framed photo on the entertainment center of Bono, the Edge, Larry Mullen, Adam Clayton, and a slightly younger looking Brian, who was wearing Bono's over-sized sunglasses, which were comically too large for his head. They were all gathered around a table, drinks in hand - though Brian clearly had a soda of some kind, smiling and waving to the camera. "We also got tickets when they played Wembley. And Bono let me keep his sunglasses."

Willow stood up and stepped to the photo above the stereo, smoothing her finger along the silver frame. "Wow, you're so lucky. And here I thought it was great when 'Cibo Matto' or 'The Dingoes Ate My Baby' came to play at the Bronze." Willow half mumbled to herself. "I guess you're gonna think Sunnydale's completely boring by comparison."

Brian looked up at her. "Actually, I'm really looking forward to being here. You know, putting down some roots. This town seems so great, so full of life. Seeing those places was great and all, but I always felt like they were overcompensating for not being there the rest of the time. Believe me, I'd have traded in every summer vacation for a nice house and a mom and dad… and maybe a dog. If anyone's lucky here, trust me, it's you." He caught the look on her face, one of empathy for him and another that he couldn't quite recognize. His heart warmed in his chest and he smiled. "Umm, well, that was the last box. Do you want something to eat?"

Willow nodded, her stomach rumbling from the lack of her morning bagel and cream cheese. "Sure, there's an IHOP down past Crawford Street. They have the best Belgian waffles, though you probably had waffles in Belgium, huh."

He shook his head. "IHOP, it is then. But now it's your turn to tell me about you. And what exactly is an '_IHOP_'?" Brian called out, as he reached for his car keys. They made their way to the two car garage; Brian activated the door opener mounted on the wall near the door. Parked on the far side of the garage on its whitewall tires was a vintage two-toned '61 Corvette, a cherry red body and creamy white inset with matching creamy white leather upholstery. The car was in perfect condition, with the chrome fender reflecting the morning sunlight.

"Wow, _that's_ your car?!" Willow cried out in amazement.

He nodded excitedly and bounced on his heels a few times, a beaming smile stretching from one ear to the other. "The one thing I got with my inheritance that I really always wanted. It's a 1961 Corvette convertible, and only has 15,000 miles on it. Uncle Duncan was not pleased when I bought it, either."

Willow frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, he said a sixteen year old wasn't mature enough to have a car like this. Guy I bought it in San Bernardino from said he just didn't have the need for a show car anymore, his wife was due with twins and was forcing him to buy a minivan." Brian leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, and Willow shivered as his warm breath caressed her ear. "Between you and me, I think Duncan was just jealous I found it first." He opened the door for Willow and she leaned into soft the leather bucket seat, reveling in the feel of the cool, slick material against her bare skin. She inhaled deeply the scent of the interior, a mixture of recently cleaned leather, a vanilla scented air freshener that hung across the rear-view mirror, and the light scent of Brian's aftershave, suddenly her new favorite scent. She snuck a look over to Brian, who was pulling the keys from his jeans pocket, and admired his young form.

He was only perhaps an inch, maybe two, taller than Xander, but even with the light gray sweater that hung loosely on his broad shoulders, Willow could see he was in excellent condition, perhaps even better than Angel. He also had light brown hair that was cut short in the back but hung loosely across his forehead. He had eyes so dark brown that she almost couldn't see the pupil and he moved in such a confident way and with an economy of motion that he reminded her of Buffy in a way. At the thought of her friend, Buffy's lingering advice floated back to her mind, _'Seize the moment…'_

"Carpe diem," Willow mumbled to herself.

"Huh?" Brian queried, as he put the car in gear and pulled out of the drive.

Willow blushed full into her cheeks again, coloring them till they matched her hair. "Oh… n-nothing."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The piercing ring of the telephone shocked Rupert Giles out of a sound slumber. It wasn't the normal ring of the phone, but the rare double ring that signaled a call from the Watchers Council. Having only one phone downstairs on the desk in his office, it required him to wake quickly and nearly leap down the flight of stairs, partially from the urgency involved and partly from the coldness of the hardwood floor. He reached for the receiver by the end of the fourth ring, panting heavily and moving from one foot to another in an effort to acclimate his feet to the chilly floorboards. "Rupert Giles. The code word is 'Monkey'."

There was a pause for a moment as the line whirr-clicked ensuring a secure line. "Rupert," a gravelly voice replied, and Giles could tell from the static and time delay that it was an international call. "It's Joe Dawson, Darius' ward arrived in Sunnydale last night." Joe told him, careful not to say his name even over the secured line. "We've set up his lodgings and registered him at the high school."

Giles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you're just thinking to tell me _now_? I appreciate the fair warning, Mr. Dawson." He continued sarcastically. "It's not as if I don't have enough to do here with the Hellmouth and the Slayer, now you're wanting me to 'watch' Darius'… wait, what has happened to Father Darius?"

Another longer pause. "He's dead, Rupert."

"What? Who? When? I never received the update. As a matter of fact, I haven't received an update in quite a while. I've been sending in reports for months now, with no reply. What is going on?" Giles pressed, anger turning to concern.

"I can't tell you. Rupert, it's on a strictly need to know basis."

"And I _need_ to know! If you're sending this boy here, then I _need_ to know what I should be prepared for!" Anger came back in waves and Giles had to force down the old 'Ripper' before he lost control.

Giles heard Dawson sigh through the static and popping across the line. "Rupert, we have a serious problem. James Horton has gone rogue and has taken a handful of agents with him. They're… eliminating Immortals. They killed Darius… right in front of Brian."

"Oh, dear Lord. Is the boy… is h-he alright?" Giles sat down into his reclining wooden office chair.

"Yeah, surprisingly. We got him some therapy after the incident, and the doctor thinks he's well enough to travel there. We need you to pay special attention to his mental state for us."

"O-of course. That poor, poor boy, witnessing that monstrous event."

"And we'll need you to keep a lookout for James Horton or any other agent except me. For the time being, you'll be operating completely solo. Send reports on the Slayer as normal, but anything unusual on Brian is sent through priority mail to my personal business in Seattle. You have the address?" Dawson queried the Englishman, and Giles acknowledged with a grunting affirmative. "Good. Address the package to me and leave the return address blank. Don't mail it from Sunnydale, either."

"Mr. Dawson, I'm quite aware of how to send a coded package."

"I know, but what you don't realize is the severity of the situation. In the meantime, we've listed the boy as a runaway under a different name back in Paris, hoping to throw Horton off the trail. You don't quite understand how vital this boy is. He is the Herald."

"T-the Herald, you say. Oh, my. That means… the End Times. The End Times are coming." He could feel the bile rise in his throat as his stomach dropped to the floor.

"Right, well, Rupert, the Prophecies department has been on this for years and it is definitely him, but we still have quite some time before the Times. We haven't even seen the first sign. So relax."

"Relax, that's easy for you to say, Mr. Dawson." Giles choked out. He could hear a nervous chuckle from the other side of the line as the call disconnected. He reached for his pair of glasses, wiping the lenses with the corner of his pajama top. Walking to the kitchen and stifling a yawn with a hand over his mouth, he filled the teapot and set it to boil. Then he moved to his bookshelf, taking a dusty tome from the sill and sat down to read.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A middle-aged waitress with frayed graying hair and a nametag that announced her as 'Nancy' took a long look at the young couple and smiled to herself before taking them to their seats. Brian and Willow sat down in a sun-warmed corner booth, with Willow ordering a plate of Belgian Waffles with strawberry topping, and Brian electing to do the same. Nancy mumbled something about "young love" to herself and shook her head as she scribbled their orders on the pad. Willow smiled eagerly as she told Brian about her life in Sunnydale, starting with Xander and the now-infamous "Barbie doll incident" and ending with Buffy, though she was careful to avoid any supernatural topics.

Brian was entranced by her stories of Xander, Jesse, Cordelia and Buffy, particularly her "frog fear" and Xander's ill-fated rescuing of his princess. "… and he only cried because I was crying even though it was Xander who broke his arm." Willow explained around a giggle and a bite of strawberry topped waffle.

"So you two have been friends since you were five? So are you and Xander, y'know, seeing each other?" Brian asked, suddenly uncomfortable and slightly depressed. He unconsciously slid deep into the blue vinyl seat. _Good going, moron. She has a boyfriend. Should've known better than to get your hopes up._

Willow felt the familiar dull ache in her heart where Xander was concerned. Her Xander-place as she called it. "No." Willow said, surprising herself when her voice didn't catch in her throat. "I mean, yes, we see each other. Of course we see each other. Everyday, in fact. But only in the sense that we're just good friends." She was rewarded with a toothy grin from Brian, and the redhead felt that fuzzy warmth spreading through her belly again. The two ate in a more or less companionable silence, breaking it only for occasional small talk and to swap suddenly unburied memories of their youth.

Brian fished a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and paid the check and left a healthy tip for 'Nancy'. By silent agreement, they left to tend to the errands of a new home owner, and before they realized it, the early afternoon had passed into early evening. The hazy California sun sank low in the western sky, creating long eerie shadows in the trees and casting a fiery red glow over the horizon and set a chill into the air, and a set of dark clouds floated in slowly from off the Pacific coast. Willow, despite herself, completely lost track of both the time and the Hellmouth, as they walked along the bike trail in Weatherly Park, each holding a waffle cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Lost amid their own thoughts, neither was aware of the four hungry vampires that made their way behind them.

A crack from a crushed dry twig alerted the couple to the unwanted arrivals. Willow and Brian turned as one, gasping as they saw the four undead forming a semicircle. "Aww, crap. Willow, get behind me!" Brian commanded, putting himself between Willow and the vampires. He set himself in a basic ready stance: left foot forward, knees slightly bent and left arm in guarding position straight across his front side while the right cocked underneath the right side of his rib cage.

The lead vampire smiled at the impudence of his prey fighting back, then snarled and lunged at Brian. The young man caught the bloodsucker square in the chin with a high front leg kick, breaking the vampire's jaw and sent it sprawling straight back into two minions, and sending them crashing to the pavement with a muffled thud. Brian was so shocked at the end result, that he stood there in shock for a moment. _'Wow! I hit him! I actually hit him!'_ The remaining vampire took Brian's momentary hesitation as a cue to attack Brian's unprotected flank, but was easily turned back when Willow shoved a large wooden cross in its face. The vamp growl-hissed and dove away before the offending holy object could make contact and burn his flesh. "Let's get out of here! Come on!" Willow cried, and pulled on Brian's sweater sleeve, dragging him down the bike path.

With Brian now pulling her by the hand, they ran faster than Willow had ever run before. She was huffing and puffing by the time they had made it the three-quarters of a mile back to Brian's house on Westminster, a stitch in her side causing her to grimace in pain. He pulled Willow inside and slammed the heavy oak door shut behind him. He turned to her and let out a sigh of relief. "I think we're safe now… vampires can't come inside unless they're invited." He paused for a moment, studying Willow carefully for a moment, who was busy rubbing the cramp out of her side. "But… you _knew_ that already. You had a cross in your purse… and you're _Jewish_."

Willow felt her jaw drop. "You mean, you _know_… about the Hellmouth?" She sat down on the couch, stunned by the revelation.

He nodded slowly. "Father Darius was totally nuts on the subject. It was all he ever wanted to talk about. Good versus Evil, Light and Dark, Order and Chaos. 'It is your duty and your heritage…'," he continued in a mocking tone. "Blah, blah, blah. It used to drive me crazy. If I wanted to go with Aunt Amanda to see a movie, he'd make sure I always carried holy water, my crucifix around my neck, and a wooden stake in my pocket." He smiled distantly at the memory. The therapist Brian that saw after Darius' murder told him that it was alright to remember Darius, especially in happy memories. "Not that I ever saw a single vampire in Paris, probably because I was never allowed outside the walls of the church after sunset. And I was stupid enough to leave the house today without at least a stake. God, what was I thinking? Could I be any more stupid? I could've gotten you killed!"

The redheaded young woman leaned in so close that Brian could feel her warm breath on his neck and chest and the heat of her pale skin, and he could swear he could hear the gentle, persistent _thump-thump_ of her heartbeat. The air was suddenly charged as if from a lightning strike as she looked into his eyes, the green of her irises sparkling for him in the dim lamplight. He turned his head mostly to hide his blush, but also to break him away from his errant thoughts. He looked to Willow and realized she had said something to him. "Huh? I'm sorry, what'd you say?"

Willow smiled and let out a gentle laugh that included a smile that caused her nose to crinkle in such a way that Brian thought it was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. She reached up to smooth out a wrinkle in Brian's light gray cotton sweater. "I said _'it's alright.'_ It wasn't all that long ago that I had no idea what was out there."

"Um, speaking of _'out there'_," Brian whispered, turning his head to the living room window. "I think our hemoglobin-deprived friends are back."

Pulling back the corner of the cream-colored drapes, Willow saw the four vampires stalking the darkened street, the vampire that Brian had kicked was now sporting a wicked-looking length of lead pipe. She turned back to Brian, but he had disappeared. "Brian?," Willow cried out, panic beginning to overtake her. She raced to the front door, but saw it was still closed and bolted, but the room was empty and deathly quiet. Beads of sweat formed on her brow and her breath quickened as she spun around the room searching for her host. "Brian, where are you?!," she repeated urgently.

Slow, desperate seconds passed before the young man reappeared from the hallway now wearing a black leather blazer and carrying a long brown wooden case edged in gold under his arm. Without answering Willow, Brian set the case down and popped the clasps. The air around the case smelled faintly of cedar, stale air and dust and Willow brushed at her nostrils to stifle a sneeze. The hinges cried out sharply from lack of use as he opened the case, which revealed a deep azure velvet inlay that housed an ivory-handled katana and wakizashi set, each with a beautifully hand-carved oriental dragon that made up the pommel. In each dragon's eyes, a pair of flawless sapphires glistened almost black in the faint lighting. Brian hefted the deceptively light Japanese samurai sword, releasing the slightly-curved silvery blade from its scabbard, then tested the balance with a series of wrist flexes, and the edge cut the air with a haunting whistle. He finally looked down to Willow, a hard look on his face that made Willow take an unconscious step back in shock.

"Stay here." Brian ordered her gently, squeezing her shoulder then pressing the still sheathed ivory-handled wakizashi into Willow's palm. He took two steps towards the front door, then turned around quickly. Willow stood up in absolute shock, alternately staring at the object in her hands and the young man at the doorway. Brian saw the look on her face, and his hard look vanished. "Willow, if anything happens out there… _don't _come after me. If something happens, I want you to turn out the lights and hide here until sunrise, then go home in the morning and call the police and my uncle in Seattle or my aunt in Toronto, their numbers are on the speed dial. Okay? Can you do that, Willow? Can you do that for me?"

She brought herself out of wherever she was and nodded to him. "Yeah… hey, maybe I should call Buffy." Willow whispered hesitantly.

Despite the situation, Brian gave her a lopsided grin and shook his head. _'This isn't a slumber party. I'm probably going to die out there and she wants to invite her girlfriend over. Women.' _"No, I think… ummm, maybe we shouldn't involve your friends. It's too dangerous. Just let me take care of this, okay." He turned back to the open door, this time with Willow hot on his heels.

"No, Brian! We need to get Buffy!" Willow cried out. "You don't understand!"

Brian chuckled to himself, more out of frustration than humor. He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, attempting to coax some of the tension out of his body. Then he sighed melodramatically, his shoulders rising and falling with the exhalation. "There's no time for that, Willow. And I don't want anyone else to get hurt. I'm sure Buffy is a great friend, but those are _vampires_ out there. Do you really think Buffy can fight a vampire? I doubt it. Besides, there just isn't enough time, okay. Those vampires are right outside. There's no telling what damage they could or who could get hurt in the meantime. Just stay here and I'll be right back… I hope." He hid his sword under the front of his jacket and opened the door slowly and carefully.

Willow watched him from the front window, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she prayed. _'Don't let him die, God. Please don't let him die.'_ Despite Brian's warnings, Willow reached for the cordless phone on the lamp table and entered Buffy's number by memory. The phone rang several times before Buffy finally answered. "Hello?", Buffy's voice called out.

"Buffy, it's me." Willow responded shakily, adrenaline coursing through her as she watched Brian face the gang not more than twenty feet from her.

"Oh, hey, Will. I was just going to call you." Buffy called out over the line. "What's the answer for number fourteen in algebra? 'Cause I'm totally stuck on it. Is it 2a = 3b + c or is it 3b = 2a - c?" Willow remained silent, enraptured by the scene playing itself out on the lawn in front of her. She could see the four, now six, vampires that attempted to surround her new friend. She sharply sucked in a breath and the cordless phone fell from her ear as her arm lost the strength to hold the phone. 

The air had a damp crispness to it now that the sun had completely dipped below the horizon, and Brian was glad he elected to grab his jacket when he sought out his sword. The sword was a gift from his Uncle Duncan and Aunt Amanda on the day Brian turned thirteen. He remembered that year both fondly and not so fondly, as his 'family' stayed in Paris the entire year, visiting him daily and teaching him how to use the ancient Oriental blade. But most of all, they taught him when it was the time to use them and when it was not. This, unfortunately, was one of those times.

Moving through a breathing exercise to calm his racing heart, he scanned the sidewalk and noticed two more vampires skulking their way along the space between the street lights, trying to use the cover of darkness to sweep in behind him. Making a mental note of their presence, Brian stepped into a glowing globe of light emanating from the lamp on the street corner, making an effort to keep his weapon hidden from his 'prey.'

The leader of the group noticed Brian once he stepped into the light, his attitude brightening at the return of _his_ prey. "Well, well, well… lookie what we got here.", the leader announced to his minions, though the words were slightly slurred, so his jaw was apparently more or less healed from earlier.

Brian rolled his eyes and summoned up his entire reserve of courage. Then he cocked his head to the side and clucked his tongue in a _'tsk-tsk'_ manner. "Oh, come _on_. Please, could that be any more pathetic? You've had what… half an hour to find me and in that time that's the best soliloquy you could come up with? _'Lookie what we got here?'_ Lacks any sense of style or subtlety… or grammar, for that matter. Hey, I'll tell you what. Go ahead, give it another try. It's okay, I'll wait." Brian smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest, tapping his fingers impatiently.

The leader growl-hissed and leaned toward the young boy, narrowing his yellowed eyes and pointed at Brian and shook his clawed finger. "You're gonna pay for what you did to my jaw, you little punk!"

Brian considered the vamp's statement for half a moment, then shook his head sadly. "Well, it was better. Points for trying and all, but it definitely needs some improvement. Oh, the Czechoslovakian judge gives it a 3.8. That's too bad, but we have these lovely parting gifts."

The vamp roared and lunged for the young man, the black claws of his open hand stretching for Brian's throat just as his other hand came down with the pipe in a clumsy wood-chopping motion. A glint of silver was the vamp's only warning. Brian easily sidestepped the oncoming attacker and flashed his weapon in an upward arc before returning the katana to its hiding place. The bloodsucker stumbled to the concrete, roaring in agony as he saw both of his hands hitting the sidewalk with a wet and nauseating plop before crumbling to ash. His lead pipe clattered noisily across the concrete before settling near a sewer grate.

"Hands off." Brian told the fallen vampire with a deadpan expression on his face. He forced a chuckle at his pun and flashed him a lop-sided grin, even as a bead of salty sweat trickled down the back of Brian's neck. "Get it? 'Hands off?' 'Parting gifts?' Get it? See how easy that was? Clear and concise… fits the situation. Easy to dance to… oh, the judges give it a 10!" _'That's it, Brian. Just keep talking. Don't let them see just how truly terrified you actually are.'_

Stunned by both the pain and the sight of his hands disappearing, the leader whimpered for a moment as he stared at the stumps of his forearms, then recovered his senses. He looked to his minions for support, but found them remaining back in the distance, waiting for orders. "Just what the hell are you idiots standing around for? Will one of you morons _kill_ him!", he screamed.

The nearest vamp was a hulking bruiser with the tattered remains of a Sunnydale High letterman's jacket. A dirty patch that still vaguely resembled a football hung on the shoulder by its few remaining threads. A name was stitched into the breast of the jacket that announced him as '_Rocky - Class of '97_.' His face twisted in demonic rage and he reached out with his beefy arms towards Brian, who was busy backing up to gain some space. The over-sized vamp dove for Brian, but his hands only found empty air. The sword flashed again with an eerie whistle and Rocky's head was separated from his neck. The head and lifeless body collapsed into a fine gray powder as it made contact with the earth.

Willow's attention was brought back to the phone by Buffy's anxious shouting, so loud that she could hear it clearly even though it was face down against her thigh. "WILLOW!?! _WILLOW!!!_"

The redhead brought the cordless to her ear, wincing as Buffy continued to shout for her. "I… uh, I'm here B-Buffy. I guess I sorta dropped the phone. Sorry."

Willow could hear Buffy exhale in relief. "God, Will. Don't _do_ that! You scared the hell out of me." There was a pause before Buffy continued in a normal tone. "So? Is the answer 2a = 3b + c or…"

"Buffy," Willow interrupted, a little more forcefully than she intended. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"

If Buffy felt slighted by Willow's behavior, she didn't voice it. "Oh, sure, Will. See ya la-" Willow rudely disconnected the call before Buffy finished speaking, though she barely noticed. She was too busy being petrified by the scene playing out before her.

Brian turned on his heel, scanning for the next vamp to make an attack on him. He turned just in time to see another vampire, roughly the same height and build as him, rush up and slam into him. The vamp's shoulder connected sharply with Brian's solar plexus, and Brian's lungs forcefully exhaled and left him gasping for air. As the vampire's kick connected with the ribcage of the young man, a deafening clap of thunder tore through the early evening and the heavens unleashed with a torrent of rain, as if God, Himself, was offended by Brian's wound. The silver katana flew away in a flat spinning arc and landed in the thick green grass, the thick lawn and the sudden downpour made it difficult for Brian to locate it. Not that he could do much at the moment, since he was too busy inhaling oxygen in greedy, painful gulps.

The assaulting undead took full advantage of Brian's prone state and reached back for a sweeping kick to his ribs. Brian attempted to roll with the blow, but nonetheless felt the full blunt force as it lifted him off his knees and spun him to the soft and damp grass. Brian groaned and he wasn't certain if he felt a rib or two crack. He looked over to his left and saw a glint of metal about fifteen feet away. Too far for him to reach. Seizing the moment, the vampire's partner moved in to grab the nearly unconscious teen by the scruff of his sweater, hoping to stand him up long enough to beat him senseless. But as the vampire's clawed hand reached for the cotton material, Brian spun himself over and grabbed the outstretched hand. With the inertia he built up in his spin, Brian managed to flip his attacker forward, causing him to stumble roughly into his undead partner. Both off balance, the two fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, cursing at each other.

This gave Brian the time he needed to recover both his breath and his weapon. He dove for the katana, sliding along the wet ground feet first like a baserunner stealing second, then popping up to his feet just as he grasped the sword. In a brief moment, barely ten seconds of actual time, the dangerous momentum the vampires had achieved was lost. Brian readied himself into a combat stance, not wasting any more time with needless babble. _Just keep your mouth shut and focus on the task at hand._ He saw the hand-less leader cradling his bloody stumps and struggling to stand, the two minions that were holding back coming up to help him. To his right, Brian saw the other two were finally separated and stepped towards him, snarling in rage nearly to the point of foaming at the mouth.

Brian flexed the sword in a series of sweeps to keep his enemies at bay. His side was throbbing and he had to make an effort merely to remain conscious. His breathing was becoming labored and he was beginning to see shooting stars cross his field of vision. He coughed once and was certain he could taste blood at the back of his throat.

The leader of the pack looked to the young man standing only a few yards away and weighed his options. The pain washing over him and the glint of sharpened steel made the decision an easy one. He turned his back on his minions and fled, and with only the briefest moment of hesitation the remaining vampires followed him. "This isn't over, you little punk," one of the minions challenged over his shoulder as he ran into the dark night. "This isn't over by a long shot. We know where you live now, boy." The vampire's sinister laugh still echoed back to Brian even as the minion disappeared into the shadows.

The young man released a sigh of relief as they retreated, hopefully at least for the night. He turned back towards the house, sheathing his katana in its hiding place inside his leather jacket. He reached the door and leaned heavily against it, when Willow flung the door open. The sudden lack of support the door gave him caused Brian to stumble forward, nearly taking Willow down with him as he staggered to the floor. "Are you alright, Brian?"

He looked up to her, seeing the panic written on her face. He smiled, though he hardly felt humored by the situation, merely hoping to calm her fears. "Yeah, I will be. Just as soon as I finish… um, barfing." He scrambled to the master bathroom, Willow made a concentrated effort not to listen to the choking noises echoing from down the hall. She instead went to the kitchen to get Brian a glass of water.

He appeared a few moments later, his eyes slightly bloodshot, his light brown hair mussed from being towel-dried, his rain-soaked white undershirt draped casually over his shoulder and a toothbrush hanging part-way from his mouth. He saw the proffered glass of water, which he gratefully accepted, wincing as the cold liquid grated over his raw throat. He nodded to the redhead in a silent thanks. She looked up to him, a question in her eyes. He flashed her a quick smile and a nod to let her know he was alright, before walking to the dining room table. "Um, sorry… about the… y'know…" He motioned to the bathroom and made a gagging gesture. "I mean, I know they were vampires and all, but… I've never killed anything before."

"Yeah, but Brian, you had to. They would have hurt or maybe even killed someone tonight if you hadn't stopped them." Willow replied gently, and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. She gasped as she realized she was touching his bare skin, then pulled it back as if burned.

Brian looked first to her hand as it retreated, then focused on her. The young man searched her face, nearly losing himself in her soft green eyes. Slowly, he nodded in assent that she was indeed correct. They would have hurt or killed someone, possibly many people, if he hadn't intervened. If he hadn't intervened, it could have even been Willow who was hurt or killed. He sucked in a breath and his heart turned to ice at the thought, surprised as much by the thought as the emotion it produced.

Another crash of thunder rocked the house and the lights dimmed for a moment, and both Willow and Brian jumped. The rain outside began to fall even harder and Brian moved quickly to the linen closet, retrieving a handful of candles to set around the room. On his way back into the living room he grabbed the phone, which he handed over to Willow. She looked up at him curiously, not understanding. "You should call your parents… let them know where you are."

She smiled sadly, looking down at her lap, suddenly fascinated by a piece of lint on the pant leg of her purple denim overalls. She picked at it for a moment before speaking. "My parents are in Phoenix. They said they wanted to visit my uncle and then 'spend some quality time alone together'."

There was something in her tone that spoke volumes to Brian. This was not an isolated occurrence for the sixteen-year old. "Oh… well, um… you know, you could… you know, since it's not safe and all… you, um, could… stay here tonight." Try as he might, there was no way to fight off the blush that stained his normally pale cheeks. He looked to see Willow's reaction.

Willow heard the words, but could not believe her ears. "You want me to… _sleep with you_? I-I, uh… I don't think…"

"Oh, my God! No! That isn't what I meant!" Whatever blush he had disappeared as the blood drained from his face. Despite himself, a few giggles slipped past his clenched teeth. "I just meant that… you could, sleep here… in the spare bedroom." He gestured down the hall to the bedroom opposite the master bedroom.

Relieved, Willow exhaled audibly. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Right, I could sleep in there. Not that I couldn't sleep with you, of course." Willow blushed and squeaked as she realized what she let slip. "But I wouldn't, though! I mean, you're nice and really kinda cute and all and it's not that I haven't thought about things like that." And this time Brian reddened at her admission. Seeing this and reflecting on her opinion, Willow blushed even harder. "Oh, no. I didn't mean you specifically. I mean, well, I did, but not… like _that_. Okay, I'm no longer making any sense, so I'll be shutting up now."

Brian dipped his head up and down slowly in hesitant understanding. "Oooo-kay, then. I guess I'll go and pick you out some sweats and a t-shirt to wear, okay?" Willow nodded, though the blush remained and had spread beyond her cheeks and bled into her ears.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The cavern dripped steadily from above, a testament to the deluge that the thunderstorm had unleashed. The five remaining vampires stood stock still in a line, as their leader addressed them. Heinrich Joseph Nest, or the Master as he referred to himself, was nearly as old as any vampire the Watchers Council had on record. The Master, leader of the Order of Aurelius, crossed his arms over his leather-clad chest, slowly shaking his head and _tsk-tsking_ his minions for their failure. "Sloppy." He began in a sing-song tone, moving a taloned hand across his pale cheeks. "Very sloppy, Andrew. A boy. A boy that killed one of our family today. This is not good. I'm very disappointed in you." He leaned in towards the leader who had lost his hands, then stretched back out to include all the vampires in the line. "I am so very disappointed in all of you. You allowed…"

"But, Master, he had a sword! And he was skilled!" Andrew interrupted in a panic. He would have continued his explanation, but the shock and pain of a backhanded slap quieted him.

"How _dare_ you interrupt me! The insolence of your generation fills me with great sadness. Do you not realize who is the master and who is the servant? Perhaps you need a lesson in proper etiquette?" The Master growled menacingly at the younger handless minion, the force of his outburst blowing the loose locks of hair in Andrew's face to whip around his forehead chaotically. The Master turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Colin, what would be a… _proper_ lesson for young Andrew here?"

The apparent child, Colin, peered up from his kneeling position beside a stagnant pool, where he was busying himself skipping tiny pebbles. He made an exaggerated motion of yawning, before returning to his idle task. The boy spoke unhurriedly spreading out his apparent disdain, refusing to look back up at the miserable wretch of a vampire. "Kill him. He failed you. Set an example for the others so that they will not fail you, as well."

The aged Master contemplated this for a moment, then nodded his head approvingly. "Yes, I believe that it would indeed set an excellent example for the others." He motioned with an insistent wave of his hand for the boy to come to him. Colin instantly dropped the remaining pebbles and sprang to the Master, a sly smile on his face. The Master glanced down at his Anointed, and nodded once sharply. Colin picked up a sharp wooden pike leaning against a wrought iron candle stand, then with a wicked grin he slammed the sharp end of the pike through Andrew's chest and Andrew erupted into a shower of ashes, his wailing death shriek echoed through the underground caverns.

The Master smiled indulgently down at his young protégé, Colin, then turned to the remaining minions with a scowl. He cupped the chin of the nearest minion, and traced the line of its jaw with his taloned forefinger. "Questions? Comments?" The remaining vampires wisely remained silent.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The storm raged on steadily outside and the meteorologist on the local news called for severe weather throughout the night, with a possibility for flash flooding in low lying parts of the valley. Behind the weatherman, a Doppler radar graphic splashed variations of dark green, yellow and red across a three-dimensional and computer generated southern California coastline, representing the weather this evening. Brian sighed and clicked the television off, then turned to the living room window, now slicked and obscured with the driving rain. The window buckled slightly under the pressure of the howling gale-force winds, and Brian wiped his hand across the glass to clear his vision. He checked the street for any sign of the vampires he had encountered earlier, but thankfully found none. _Perhaps even the undead wouldn't be caught dead in this weather_, Brian thought to himself.

He stood up slowly, adjusting to the unfamiliar creak of floorboards under his weight. He padded slowly down the hall, stopping to check on his guest, who was snoring softly in the guest bedroom. His breath caught in his throat at the vision before him. She laid in a fetal position, her flaming red hair draped across the soft white linen pillow case, contrasting her pale face, casting a fiery halo around her head and shoulders. He could see even from the distance the even rise and fall of her chest buried underneath the downy blue comforter. He sighed deeply at the picture before him, then quietly shut the door behind him and tip-toed back to the living room.

Getting back to the warm living room sofa, he stretched out, kicking his feet up on the arm of the chair, ignoring the Amanda-esque proclamation in his head advising him to _'get his feet down.'_ He reached for the thick blue Tom Clancy novel he had laid on the end table, opening it to the bookmark and stifling a yawn as he settled in for the night. He had difficulty focusing on Jack Ryan or the other characters in the book in his hands, partially from the complexity of the story, but mostly from his exhaustion and the growing bruise on the right side of his ribcage. Thankfully, the injury he sustained at the hands of, or rather the foot of, a vampire did not result in at least a broken rib or, even worse, a punctured lung, although his breathing was still labored and pained. A fact that Willow was not willing to let go of so easily when she saw the mottled yellow, red, purple and black bruising that spread out from his lower ribs just above his waist to just underneath his armpit.. He laughed painfully at a thought, and then clutched at his wounded ribs; she was prepared to stay up the entire night to keep an eye on him, since he was absolutely unwilling to go to the hospital. His heart was warmed by the caring she gave freely to him even though they had only known each other for less than a day. His weary mind uncovered half-buried recollections of events long since past just by being near this beautiful young woman. _'She gives without any thought of reward and then gives of herself just as easily and without any thought or hesitation, even though she knows her heart will be hurt by it. And then she does it anyway. She reminds me of someone. I wonder who?'_ Brian asked himself, the peaceful haze of slumber smoothing out the lines in his brow. The answer finally came to him just as a restless sleep ultimately claimed him. _'Oh, yeah. Darius.'_


	3. Chapter Two

**__**

Chapter Two

'I have stood here before

inside the pouring rain

With the world turning circles

running 'round my brain

I guess I'm always hoping that

you'll end this reign

But it's my destiny to be

the King of Pain…'

The Police, 'King of Pain'

****

The long and unfamiliar metallic clanking of the heater kicked in and startled an exhausted Willow from her rest, a noise she hadn't heard in many years. She hadn't spent the night at Jesse's since she was very nearly nine years old. Since Jesse's mother found, or perhaps caught, Willow _'playing doctor'_ with Jesse and Xander. Fortunately for all of their parents, Willow misunderstood the hidden meaning of _'playing doctor'_ and was halfway through a comprehensive physical exam on a shirtless and irritated Jesse; complete with a stethoscope, a copy of Gray's Anatomy and a back issue of the New England Journal of Medicine. Items that were given to her by her surgeon uncle in Arizona. She even noted to Jesse's parents in a serious "doctor" tone that he had both a slight heart murmur and a mild case of scoliosis, and that Xander was in "perfect" condition. Oddly enough, further inspection of Jesse by their family pediatrician only confirmed her diagnosis. Still, she was banned from any overnight visits, and her father made her return the stethoscope to her uncle.

As the rumbling of the electric heater shook the walls of her room, she shivered as if she was touched briefly by a live wire and her eyes grew wide. She blinked hard several times in an effort to acclimate herself to the darkness of her room. But this wasn't her room, she realized. Her still-sleeping brain eventually caught up with her startled body and she remembered that she was at Jesse's, no, Brian's house, now. With balled-up fists, she rubbed at her red and raw eyes, then stretched her arms over and behind her head before rolling out of the warm sheets of the bed to get a glass of water. Padding across the cool floorboards in her white gym socks, she had to stop a moment and reorient herself with the layout of Brian's home. _'The last thing I want to do,'_ she thought with a smile, _'is to walk into Brian's bedroom in the middle of the night. I don't think I could ever live that down.'_

She fought to avoid the inevitable squeak from the door handle, pulling the door open slowly and methodically. After having adjusted to the dimness of her bedroom, even the soft lamplight coming from down the hall in the living room was like a searchlight in her eyes. She grunted and quickly covered her eyes with a hand, squinting in the direction of the light. She stepped into the living room and found Brian casually draped over the leather sofa, one socked foot draped over the arm of the chair and the other wrapped underneath it. A heavy-looking book was marked and laid opened not quite halfway and laying flat across his chest, with one hand keeping the book's balance while his other hand laid comfortably across his eyes. _'He looks so peaceful,'_ she thought to herself, unable to stop the smile from forming on her lips.

Willow paused a moment to take a long look at her new friend. Stretched out across the couch, she saw something that made her take a moment, something she couldn't quite identify. It just felt so much like the final tumbler in a combination lock had just fallen into place, slipped into a groove. It just felt - _right_ - like something clicked inside of her. Right in a way she never knew existed or thought possible, but she knew that's what it was. If only she knew what it meant.

__

'But what about me?,' came the Xander-voice in her head, and it caused her chest to ache. _'Oh, God,'_ she exhaled mentally. _'Xander!'_ Her mind flashed to the goofy grin of her best friend, his over-sized ears, his chocolate-brown eyes, and the unruly mop of dark brown hair that always swept over his eyes and made Willow want to rush over and sweep it back into place. She frowned, nearly angry with herself, as the thoughts assaulted her senses. _'Why am I suddenly thinking of Xander?'_

The war waging inside her immediately called for a cease-fire when she heard a muffled cry from the young man tossing and turning now on the leather couch, the large novel fell awkwardly to the floor with a thump laying face down and creasing several pages in the process. The redhead refocused her eyes and saw Brian who cried out in his sleep, but about what she was unsure. She crossed the room quickly, wiping the sweat from his brow and smoothing her hand gently across his cheek hoping to soothe away whatever nightmare had claimed him. He thrashed about violently for a moment until the gentle soprano of Willow's voice brought him back from the ether of his subconscious.

"Brian? Are you okay?"

"Huh, wha-? Willow? What are you doing in my room?" Brian asked sleepily.

She looked down at him, a crooked smile on her face. "You're not in your room. I guess you fell asleep reading on the couch. You kinda looked like you were having a bad dream. I came to check on you. Are you alright?"

He paused for a moment, allowing his still sleepy mind a moment to recover. Then he nodded, "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you remember what it was about?" Willow asked with concern.

He shook his head quickly, too quickly for Willow, though.

She knew he remembered it, and flashed him her 'resolve face.' Finally, he crumbled and nodded; the look on his face told her this was a recurring thing for him.

"What is it, Brian?," Willow pressed. "You can tell me, you know."

"It was… Darius." Brian responded, hoping that would be enough for her.

"Darius? You mean the priest, Father Darius?" Willow countered.

Brian nodded heavily, sudden tears stinging at his eyes and his throat constricted as the nightmare hung over him. He stole a glance out the large bay window before he finally answered her. "He, um… he died."

Willow snapped back as if stung. "Oh, Brian! I'm so sorry! That must have been horrible for you."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Horrible. Yeah, that's pretty much it." He shuffled around on the sofa, making more room for Willow to sit down. She took a sitting position on the far end of the couch, while Brian pulled his legs up close to him, then wrapped his arms around his knees.

Then he spoke so softly to Willow that she barely heard his voice over the still pouring rain. "They killed him, Willow. Right in front of me. That's why I was sent here. To hide." Despite himself, his lower lip trembled and the tears began to fall. "They cut off his head right in front of me, Willow, and laughed at me while they did it. They told me he was an '_abomination_.' They laughed at me because they knew I couldn't do anything to stop them. God, Willow, who would want to kill a _priest_!?" The wall finally fell and his young body shook up and down as the wracking sobs washed over him. He moved his hands up from his knees to wipe at his tear-stained face, then he buried his head in the crook created by his bent knees and curled himself into a ball, anguished moans escaping from somewhere deep within him.

Brian's revelation rolled around in the redhead's mind, and her heart broke for him. She slid next him, embracing him in her tiny arms, barely aware of the tears spilling from her own eyes. She let him cry, though, and didn't try to offer any condolences. From the words he said, and likely what he didn't say, there were no words of comfort, anyway. So she just held him tighter, till they both fell into a restful and dreamless slumber that lasted the rest of the night. And as Brian and Willow drifted off peacefully in each other's arms, the rain finally let up on the quiet little town of Sunnydale.

Sunrise came quickly the next morning, and the early red-orange corona across the mountaintops to the east streamed through Brian's front window, and its light was what eventually woke Willow from a sound slumber. She winced as dawn's early light burned through her eyelids, and she blinked away the crusty sleep in the corners of her eyes. She meant to rub away the remnants, but found an arm draped lazily over her that prevented it. A large, heavy and very male arm, with a hand cupping one of her breasts, and causing a curious and unfamiliar, yet not at all unpleasant feeling in the pit of her belly. She finally turned in the arms to see Brian's peaceful and still sleeping face, and her jaw dropped open. With a start, all of their late night conversation came rushing back at her.

__

'Oh. My. God! We slept together!' She screamed despite her best efforts to remain quiet, then winced as she saw Brian's smooth brow crease as the high-pitched screech pierced his ears, and she smacked his hand away from her bosom. Half a second later, his eyes opened directly to Willow's and he screamed, too.

"W-willow? Willow! What?! What're you doing in my bed?," Brian shouted, wincing as the loud noise reverberated in his ears, and holding his injured hand against his chest.

Willow winced, too, and the blood rushed away from her already pale face, turning it an ashen gray. He studied her for a moment, realizing she was about to cry. "Hey, don't cry, Willow."

Still the tears came. "Oh, God. My parents are so gonna kill me. I'll be grounded until I'm fifty. If I'm lucky."

Brian cocked his head to the side and smiled wryly. "I won't tell if you don't."

"I'm such a slut." Willow moaned, burying her head in her hands.

He didn't mean to. He really didn't. But he laughed at her.

Willow looked up at him sharply, green blades of death in her narrowed eyes. Brian held up his hands to forestall the inevitable smack to the face. "I'm sorry." Brian cried out around a giggle, unable to keep the smile off his face, which only served to infuriate Willow even more.

"It's not funny!" Willow snapped back.

The smile vanished from Brian's face immediately. "I'm sorry. You're right, it's not." He reached out and took her hand in his, stroking the thumb across her palm. "Willow, you're not a slut, okay?"

"Are you sure?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He fought against the smirk threatening to break through his resolve. "I'm certain. And I think I can be a pretty good judge of character. Now, I think I should either kick you out now or make us some breakfast. Your call." Brian announced, glad to have put the conversation behind them.

The young woman wiped away both the tears and the crusty sleep in the corners of her eyes, then smiled to Brian in relief. She stood and walked down the hall to the guest bedroom to retrieve her clothes. "Um, well… I'd love to stay for breakfast and all, Brian," her voice echoed from down the hall. "but I think it would be a good idea if I went home now. My parents should be calling soon, anyway. They might get worried if I'm not there."

Brian nodded his assent, though Willow could clearly see the disappointment in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He stood slowly, letting his knees stretch out for a moment. "I'll walk you out, okay?" She slipped her tennis shoes on, then nodded and they moved to the front door. Brian opened the door, then looked back to Willow. He smiled as she stepped past him, then reached again for her hand. "Can I, um… see you again? You know, in a less sleep-over, more go-see-a-movie sort of way?"

Willow smiled brightly, and bounced on her heels. "Sure!" Then she regained control of herself and some of her composure. "I mean, o-okay, how about this Friday night, maybe? We could see _'The English Patient.' _My parents saw it and said it was really good."

Brian smiled and nodded, but cringed on the inside. _'The English Patient? Oh, man. Not a chick flick! Worse, a three-and-a-half-hour chick flick.'_ He whined mentally like a six-year-old.

"Sure. _'The English Patient,'_ it is. This Friday night, then, alright?" Willow nodded eagerly and started to head off towards her house when Brian pulled her back to him and kissed her. The kiss was slightly clumsy as the two were fairly new at it and only one was expecting it. It lasted barely three seconds before Willow's head snapped back in surprise. Their eyes met, and Brian stroked his hand tenderly across her cheek, his thumb caressing the soft rosy flesh. He searched her eyes for a silent confirmation while she nervously chewed on her flushed and swollen lower lip, then leaned back in for a second kiss. While it was not exactly the best moment for a kiss, Willow leaned into it, once she recovered from the shock, tilting her head back to compensate for Brian's six inch height advantage. She dropped her bundle of clothes on the stone steps, then wrapped her arms behind his neck and deepened the kiss, while Brian wrapped his muscular arms around her waist. They continued on his doorstep for perhaps another minute or so, till they both ran short of breath.

Panting, Willow looked up at Brian, his eyes darkened from the heated moment. "What was that for?" She asked him breathlessly.

"Carpe diem? I was, uh… _seizing the day._ Why, didn't you like it?" Brian replied with uncertainty. "I-I mean you seemed to, y'know, l-like it. Oh, God, you didn't like it." He flushed and lowered his head, running his hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

"Oh, no! I liked it… a lot. It was great. Very, um… _kiss-like_." Willow rambled.

Her mind spoke out to her from her Xander-place, reminding her of just what was bothering her. _'I always thought I would be your first.'_ Xander's voice echoed inside her. She sighed inside, considering her life long friend and how he might react when he found out about what she had just done. _'Dammit! It's not fair! Brian really likes me! And I like him, too. He's sweet and kind and really cute. He even kissed me, and I liked it. So why do I keep thinking about Xander.'_

"You okay in there?," Brian asked, while waving a hand before her eyes. Willow jumped, and her eyes refocused on him. He grinned at her, lowering his head to meet her at eye level. "Hey, Willow, you okay? You seemed kinda lost in there for a minute."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry… I, uh, guess my mind was a million miles from here." Willow replied, shaking her head slowly. "So, uh, I guess I'll see you…"

Brian nodded. "Yep, tomorrow at school, right?" Willow nodded, the smile returning to her face. "See you then." He leaned back down, and this time Willow was prepared, and their kiss was less clumsy and more passionate. After a long moment, Willow finally pulled back and waved to him as she jogged across the street to her house. Brian didn't step back into his home until he saw that Willow made it inside, and saw her wave to him from her open door. Finally, Brian shut the door behind him, and leaned against the door in amazement.

Across the street, a breathless Willow propped herself up against her door, panting heavily and pressing her palm to her lips. She remained that way for a full minute, savoring the giddy lightheaded feeling of her first real kiss, then she giggled and ran to the phone to call Buffy. She mashed the speed-dial and tapped her foot impatiently as the phone connected with a groggy Buffy on the other end.

"Huh-lo?" Buffy drew out slowly, and Willow guessed that her friend was still clutching the pillow over her head even as she spoke.

"Morning, Buffy," came the chipper reply.

"Is it, already?" Buffy mumbled grumpily. She opened her eyes. "Willow, it's still dark out. Call me back in a few hours. Ah'm tired. Lemee sleep."

Willow looked outside to the sunny Californian morning in confusion, then laughed. "Buffy! Take the pillow off your head! It's morning!"

Cautiously, Buffy lifted the pillow from her head, then immediately regretted it as light burst forth and caught Buffy in the retinas.

She winced and slammed the pillow back over her head, groaning into the phone. "Call me back in a few hours, Will. I'm still tired." Buffy whined petulantly.

But Willow would have none of this. She knew exactly what it would take. "You wanna go to the mall?"

"The mall?" Buffy asked, barely believing her ears. Willow never wanted to go to the mall. "Willow, are you feeling okay? You never want to go to the mall."

"That's not true! I went with you last month!" Willow exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah. We were there for half an hour. We were only there to get a book for Giles. That's not shopping, that's running an errand." Buffy snapped back good naturedly.

"Well, I'm asking now. You wanna go?"

"Of course! I'll ask my mom if she can drop us off."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The earth was still mushy and damp from the previous night's thunderstorm, and Buffy mentally cursed herself for wearing boots with heels, as they repeatedly sank into the drenched and spongy loam of the Whiteoak cemetery, the one across the street from Xander's house. As fashionable as her new beige suede ankle boots might be, they really sucked for patrol, and she was sure the soggy soil would ruin them. Buffy thought back to earlier that morning, amazed at her redheaded confidant.

Willow wasn't kidding when she said she wanted to do some shopping: almost fifteen hundred dollars and several bags worth of clothes, shoes, cosmetics and accessories later. The things she selected would make Cordelia proud, and if Buffy was a fashion expert, then Willow was an extremely promising young protégé. In fact, Buffy was particularly envious of the Italian leather blazer that Willow came across and spent over four hundred dollars on. Matte black and silky soft, it hung down to Willow's upper-thigh and hugged in near her slim waist. She was certain it had been made just for her, but Willow got to it first.

"Love the jacket, Will. It'll go so great with that olive-green ribbed cotton sweater you bought at Bloomie's." Buffy commented to the redhead, eyeing the coat enviously, then stroking the sleeve with the palm of her hand. _'It would also go so well with my light blue sweater,'_ Buffy thought to herself. _'I hope she'll let me borrow it sometime.'_

"I like it, too." Willow replied, noticing Buffy's intense stare. Unconsciously, she pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders. _'If you think you're borrowing this jacket, Buffy, then you're seriously deluded.'_

Buffy snatched up the price tag hanging loosely on the sleeve. "Whoa! Four hundred and seventy-five dollars!?! When did you get four hundred and seventy-five dollars?"

Willow looked at Buffy for a moment, confused as to why Buffy was acting jealous around her. It took Willow a moment to realize she was still ogling her jacket. "Well, there was my Bat Mitzvah party a few years ago. And I've been baby-sitting the next-door neighbor's kids for a few years now, and then there was the birthday money and Hanukkah gifts from my uncle."

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Buffy nodded. "Oh, okay. So what brought on this whole change of style? This isn't like you at all."

"Aren't I allowed to express myself, too? Do I always have to be the nerd?" Willow snapped back nastily. She turned and picked up a vial of flowery imported perfume, spraying a sample into the air, then sniffing, and making an obvious attempt to ignore the Slayer.

"No, Will. Sorry, that wasn't what I meant. I'm just wondering where the sudden need to get fashion conscious is coming from. Is it a guy?" Buffy queried with a wide smile, leaning forward to grasp Willow's arm a little tighter than necessary, realizing too late that her Slayer strength would probably leave a bruise on Willow's upper arm. "It's totally a guy, isn't it?"

If Willow was injured by the Slayer, she didn't show it. Though Willow's arm nearly slipped and she had to grasp the perfume bottle tightly in her hand, very nearly shattering it. "Uh… w-what makes you think that?"

"It _is_ a guy! I knew it! Willow, you shouldn't go to all this trouble to get Xander to notice you. I mean, it's great that…" Buffy began.

"I'm not doing this for Xander, Buffy." Willow interrupted, now starting to get a little irritated.

"Then who is it?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Is it that cute guy in your Computer Science class?"

"What? No, I'm doing this for _me_, Buffy. Just me." Willow whipped back at her, and Buffy unconsciously took a half-step back in surprise. She didn't even know of _any_ cute guys… at least not in her Computer Science class.

"Oh, Will. I didn't mean to… it's just that… well, you're Willow, and…" Buffy stammered out in contrition, and pulling her hand away from the jacket and apprehensively tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm _what_? 'Just Willow?' Buffy's nerdy little sidekick? Research girl? Just there to make you look better, so Xander, Angel and Giles will get all hormonal around you?" Willow continued, barely listening to her friend anymore. "Why can't I be…"

"Whoa! Waitjustaminute! I never thought of you that way, Will." Buffy replied hurriedly to calm her frenzied best friend, concerned and alarmed too that Willow would even think she thought that. "And I don't think that you're my sidekick. You're my best friend. I think it's great that you want to get Xander's attention. I'd love nothing more than to see Xander wake up and smell the hottie. But I just think you might be going a bit too far to get it."

"But that's just it, Buffy. I'm not doing this for him." She repeated slowly, like she was speaking to a four-year old, which only caused Buffy to get irritated. "I'm doing this for me."

__

'Well, not just you,' her conscience prompted her swiftly and remorselessly.

She turned back towards the glass counter and began sampling perfumes, a clear indication that the conversation was over.

Buffy took the hint and leaned in to sniff at the fragrant air. "Giles gets hormonal? Since when did Giles get _hormonal_? He's British. I didn't think that was even possible?" Her remark was rewarded with a snorting giggle and a raised eyebrow from Willow. Eventually, the two girls dissolved into a fit of giggles at the mental image of the stuffy English librarian.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So immersed in her recollection of her earlier shopping trip with Willow, that the Slayer failed to notice the newly-risen barrel-chested vampire that rose up from its grave and snuck up behind her, trapping her arms behind her back. The demon quickly leaned in to devour her neck, not wasting any time with pleasantries. He was out for blood, and Slayer blood would do quite nicely for a first meal.

Buffy, however, recovered quickly and put any thoughts of her demise to rest with a powerful head-butt to the vamp's nose and mouth. The sound of several shattered teeth and ruptured cartilage nauseated her, then she reached for his arm and twisted it. The vamp was flipped onto his back, and he grunted both from the head-butt and the slam to the mossy turf. Buffy reached into her faded blue denim jacket for her stake, ready to plunge it into the demon's chest. She thrust it down, only to be stopped by a rolling kick that not only disarmed her, but also caught her across the side of her head and knocking her down to her knees. Her wooden stake skittering across the wet grass and disappearing into the hole opened by the vampire exiting his grave.

Buffy caught sight of her stake just as it teetered then slipped over the earthy precipice. She dove vainly for it, landing hard on her palms and chin, creating a divot in the soft mud, which left wet soil caked from her hands to her hair and stole the breath from her lungs. She wheezed out a curse as she struggled to regain her breath. As she turned back to her opponent, she saw the vampire stand up and brush the dust off his dark suit jacket. He then ran a bloody red tongue across his broken fangs, wincing as the pain assaulted his senses. He released an animalistic roar at the young Slayer, if he couldn't feed on her, the least he could do was snap her slender neck with his bare hands. He stepped towards her, eager to sink his dirty claws into her pale flesh.

"Oh, shi-," Buffy choked out as the husky vampire grabbed her by her throat, cutting off both her curse mid-word as well as her breath, lifting her several inches off the ground. Buffy clawed at his hands with her newly manicured nails, tearing out red lines of flesh which crumbled to ash under her nails. The vamp howled in pain, but refused to release his choke hold on the Slayer, and Buffy began to spasm involuntarily in his grasp. Multi-hued stars and comets danced in Buffy's vision, which was rapidly narrowing as oxygen was denied her brain. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sent out a final prayer to whatever gods or goddesses were listening to protect her family and friends, then went slack in the vampire's arms.

"You don't mind if I cut in, do you?," an unfamiliar voice called out sardonically, and Buffy felt the hands release her, and she dropped like a stone to the cemetery lawn, wheezing and coughing as her vision returned.

She looked up to see a young man, about Xander's height she could see, squaring off with a suddenly one-armed vampire. She shook her head to clear it, and saw the guy was carrying a sword. She blinked a few times, certain that she was hallucinating the event. Turning back, she saw him catch the vampire with a high kick to the face and followed it with a spinning back kick to the stomach, then finishing the demon off with a diagonal slash that cut it open from shoulder to waist. The vampire looked at the teen in surprise and felt his torso slide off his body as it began to crumble to dust before it hit the ground. The remainder of his form dissolved only a moment later.

Brian exhaled a sigh of relief, then turned to the slim young woman, who was busying herself with scraping the caked on mud from her hair with one hand, while rubbing the circulation back to her throat with the other. Brian lowered a hand to Buffy, which she accepted gratefully and was pulled up with a strength that surprised her. "Interesting choice for a moonlight stroll, miss. Are you alright?," Brian asked her.

"I will be, once I start breathing again. Oh, these boots are totally ruined, I just know it. I guess I was lucky you came by when you did. Thanks, I thought he really had me. Hi, I'm Buffy." She replied, still rubbing her aching throat. "So where did the va-… um, the guy go?"

Brian frowned for a moment. _'Oh, so this is Willow's friend. She's pretty.'_ "Uh, the guy? He… left. I guess he didn't like the odds after I showed up. Took off towards the trees over there." He motioned to a grove of sycamores to his right, just across from a large stone mausoleum.

"He did?," Buffy answered, not at all convinced. "So you didn't kill him with a sword, then?" The moment the words left her lips, she realized just how insane that sentence really sounded.

Brian paled under the moonlight, and he stammered. He felt for the katana hidden inside the lining of his leather jacket, comfortably assured it was hidden from view. "S-sword? What sword? Are you, um, certain that you didn't hit your head, or something? Maybe I should take you over to the emergency room and let them take a look at you."

She shook her head, emitting a nervous laugh as she looked around the graveyard. "No, that's okay. No head trauma for me. I'm fine. Buffy Summers, Indestructo-gal, that's me. Just a little sore throat and some wounded pride, that's all." 

"Would you like me to escort you home, then?" Brian questioned gently and offering a crooked elbow to her.

Buffy smiled at the gentlemanly offer, but shook her head. At the limit of her recovering vision, she could see Angel, the souled vampire, approaching. "No, thanks. I should be alright now." She looked up at the taller man, ready to thank him again for the life-saving rescue, but he was gone. She blinked several times in rapid succession, suddenly uncertain if she hadn't just hallucinated the entire encounter.

The dark haired vampire jogged up to the young Slayer, concern marring his handsome features. "Buffy, are you alright?" He leaned in close as she nodded in silence, placing his hands on her face tenderly to examine her neck for serious injuries. Fortunately, he found none other than some darkening red ligature marks and the beginnings of bruises around her throat. _'She'll live'_, he concluded with relief, until a darker voice echoed perkily into his mind. _'Yeah, but for how much longer. She is still a Slayer, you know.'_ He ignored the black mood that tried to wrap around him at that thought, content with the moment. "So who was the guy?"

Buffy looked up sharply. "You know, I don't think I ever actually got his name. For awhile, I thought maybe I'd imagined him or something. We were talking, I turned to see you and when I looked back up, he was gone. Have you been giving stealthy lessons on the side?" Buffy kidded him as they walked from the muddy graveyard.

"Well, yeah. You know, a guy's gotta make a living somehow." Angel deadpanned his reply, which earned him a quick jab to the ribs.


	4. Chapter Three

**__**

Chapter Three

'There's talk on the street,

it sounds so familiar.

Great expectations,

everybody's watching you.

People you meet,

they all seem to know you…'

The Eagles, 'New Kid In Town'

****

Monday morning came a little too quickly for the brown haired young man, rising just before dawn for a quick five-mile run that also functioned as an impromptu patrol of the town. He was home in time for a quick shower and an English muffin with butter and jam before piling his backpack into his 'Vette and heading off to Sunnydale High School. A voice mail from Amanda said that he had an 8:15 appointment with Principal Snyder, and she snidely elaborated to say that Snyder sounded like an absolute Nazi on the phone. _'As if I wasn't nervous enough on my first day of school.'_ Brian kept an eye for Willow as he prepped himself for school, hoping to offer her a ride to school, but eventually had to leave or risk being tardy. Clearly, tardiness was not a first impression he wanted to leave with a potentially fascist high school principal.

Eight minutes later, he pulled his red convertible into the closest available parking space, next to a brand new crimson Dodge Stratus. His car definitely was attracting envious stares from the students as they passed by. The brunette in the Stratus, apparently not paying attention to her surroundings, nearly opened her door against the Corvette's original paint job. Panicked, Brian leapt across the passenger seat, catching the Stratus' door mere inches from contact with his, the momentum of the door crunching Brian's fingers between the two doors.

Outraged, the girl stuck her head around the door frame. "Hey! Watch it, buster. This is a brand new car. Don't go putting your greasy mitts all over my… _whoa_…," she stopped her tirade as she took in both the car next to her and the person occupying it. Despite her best efforts, Brian could hear her whisper under her breath, while he was busily shaking back feeling into his fingers. "What a total stud-biscuit." She put on her widest smile, showing an amazing number of perfectly aligned pearly white teeth. A true testament to both her orthodontist and her father's checking account. She grabbed her door from the boy's hands, carefully pulling it away from the Corvette. Walking around to the driver's side of Brian's car, she extended a hand, which Brian accepted eagerly. Brian subtly gave her the once over, as she did the same to him and his car. She was devastatingly beautiful, tall and slim, with hazel eyes that crowned an angel's face. Apparently, Brian focused on her longer than necessary, because he saw her mouth moving and couldn't decipher a word of what was being spoken.

"… a 1961 or a 1960 ducktail convertible?"

"Uh… oh, it's a '61. Got it from a guy up in San Bernardino a few months ago. You like it?" He asked.

The girl nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Definitely a nice set of wheels. My last boyfriend, Devon, only has a van. I mean, honestly, a _van_? Should I be seen in a van? I don't think so. Now this… _this_ is more my style. Care to give me a ride?" She asked playfully and rubbed her hand along his forearm, and Brian wondered just how much of a double entendre that really was.

He smiled nervously, looking around for a friendly face, but was met only with a host of strangers rushing off to parts unknown. "Uh, as much as I'd love to, I'm late for a meeting with Principal…," he scanned down to the slip of paper in his hand. "…Snyder. I'm kinda new here. Just transferred, and all."

"Oh, lucky you." She replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. "Principal Snyder. I think he really lives under a bridge and eats goats. My advice, just nod your head a few times like you're listening to his every word, then say 'Seig, Heil!' a few times." Brian nodded, noting another reference to a potentially fascist headmaster. "That way, he'll leave you alone. You know, I'm heading that way, I could show you around and stuff."

Brian looked around, hoping to find Willow waiting for him. He shrugged at the girl and nodded his reluctant agreement. "Sure, I'd appreciate that. By the way, I'm Brian Wilson."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Cordelia. Cordelia Chase. But you can call me Cordy. All my friends do." She wrapped an arm around his waist and guided him through the set of double doors that stood as the entrance to the school.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buffy and Xander met Willow at her locker, finding the redhead busying herself pulling several books from her backpack and settling them into her locker. Xander was the first to notice Willow, or more importantly, what she was wearing. She had on a pair of tight black pants, leather calf-high boots, a deep green sweater, and a black leather blazer. She was even wearing makeup, and her long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail with a clip. Xander couldn't believe his eyes. Willow was… beautiful. _'When did that happen?'_

"Hey, Will. You look great today." Buffy announced cheerily.

Willow turned and smiled at her best friend, noticing a series of red marks combined with dark blue and black bruising that wrapped around the front of Buffy's throat. "Morning, Buffy. Morning, Xander. Thanks. Hey, what happened to your neck?"

Buffy shrugged and her hand absently reached up to massage the injured region. "Vamp that got really lucky." Willow looked shocked and horrified, but motioned with a nod of her head for Buffy to continue. "I was wearing those new suede boots, which are completely ruined now. Anyhow, I slipped in the mud and dropped my stake. If it wasn't for this total hottie that scared the vamp off, you guys would be hangin' with a new Slayer."

"N-new guy?" Willow questioned.

"Oh, yeah. Major honey, too. I was about to ask him to the Bronze, but he totally disappeared on me when Angel showed up." Buffy replied.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They stopped first to find Cordelia's locker, where she fumbled with the combination lock for a moment. The locker next to her was open, which made it difficult to get to the lock easily and frustrated her. Finally, the person shut their door and an already uneasy Brian was shocked to see Willow there. She turned to look at him, and smiled widely. That is, until she saw Cordelia draped over him like a cheap suit. Her smile faltered then turned into twin icy green daggers directed at Brian and he instinctively took a half-step backward, alerting Cordy to the presence of Willow, Buffy and Xander, who were busy talking to each other about last night's graveyard incident. Willow was inwardly bristling at Xander's oblivion to her new sense of fashion.

Cordelia smiled wickedly at Willow and leaned in against Brian's shoulder in an intimate fashion. "Hey, Willow. This is Brian. He's new to…"

"I_ know_." The redhead bit out frostily, never taking her eyes off of Brian. Brian noticed she was more dressed up than the last time he saw her. She had on a green turtleneck sweater and a leather jacket that was similar to his. _'Wow, Willow looks great this morning.'_

"Well, excuuuuse me. I guess somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." The brunette replied nastily, surprised at Willow's reaction. "Geez, try a bran muffin, Willow. I hear they're great for unblocking whatever it is that's stuck up your ass." Despite themselves, Buffy and Xander snorted at the rather impressive insult. Willow spun around quickly and pinned her friends into silence with a look.

Willow finally turned to meet Cordelia's face and she was tempted to smack that smile off her face. Part of her wanted to run and hide, so hurt by Brian. The other part was so furious that it kept her bolted to the floor. Refusing to respond to Cordelia's taunt, she turned back to Brian, the pain and betrayal reflected in her eyes. It wasn't until she was able to read the _'Help Me'_ look on his face, that she realized he was probably ambushed before he even left the parking lot. With a sinister grin, Willow reached for Brian's hand and pulled him away from her rival, then planted a scorching kiss on his lips. After a moment of astonishment, Brian began to return to kiss, letting it linger as long as possible. And while it was maybe not the best kiss they'd ever bore witness to, the looks on her friend's faces were utterly priceless, particularly Cordelia's.

__

'Man, I wish I had a camera right now. And it'll be worth it when Buffy gives me the third-degree later.' "Come on, Brian." Willow announced, purposely ignoring the reactions of her friends and her somewhat-less-than-friend. "You need to see the principal, and he hates it if you're late. I'll walk you there." The two left hand-in-hand before any of the three could formulate a response.

Buffy was the first to push her jaw back into place, though still in shock at what she saw. "What the… hey, that was the guy from last night!" She turned to Xander. "That's the guy who saved me last night in the graveyard."

Xander largely ignored Buffy's statement. "So what, did you see that… he just… with her… _he just kissed Willow!_"

"Looked more like the other way around from where I stood, Xand." Buffy replied honestly and with a bit of mirth. _'No cute guy, my ass! Way to go, Willow!'_

Xander just glared at her and ground down on his teeth, then without another word stalked away towards his homeroom. Buffy and Cordelia tracked the rapidly departing Xander with their eyes, watching as he bounced off a football player like a human pinball though never breaking stride. The jock barely had time to register his surprise before Xander was well past him, and thereby out of ass-kicking range. They lost track of him as he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Buffy looked back to Cordelia, a small smile still perched on her lips.

"What just happened here?" Cordelia asked, still confused and more than a little angry by the sudden turn of events.

"Well, I think Willow has a boyfriend and Xander is none-too-thrilled about it." Buffy replied honestly.

"No, I meant with Brian and me. What's up with that?"

Buffy blew out an irritated breath. "Cordelia, would it surprise you to find out that the world does not revolve around you?"

"Yes." Cordelia replied easily, catching sight of Harmony and Aura. Without looking back, the tall brunette strode off to meet her friends. Buffy shook her head, not completely sure if Cordy was serious or not. The first period bell rang and Buffy gathered up her books and headed off to her history class.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The diminutive, balding principal stalked around the back of his desk, attempting to size up the young man who had just entered his office. "Mister Wilson," Snyder made an exaggerated motion of glancing at his watch, tapping at the glass face with a stubby finger, then back at Brian. "It is now 8:17. You're two minutes late. And if there is one thing in this school I simply will not tolerate, it's tardiness. That, and smoking."

__

"Oui, m'sieur." Brian replied, slightly irritated that he was late for their meeting, but more annoyed that the principal would make such a big deal over two minutes. _'Amanda wasn't kidding when she said he was "an absolute Nazi."'_ In fact, with each passing moment, Snyder reminded Brian more and more like one of those Ferengi creatures he saw on Star Trek. _'God, I hope he doesn't call me a 'hyoo-man,' or I swear I'll bust a gut!'_ He snickered mentally as the thought hit him, and he had to bite down hard on his tongue not to laugh out loud.

Snyder nodded in satisfaction at Brian's deference to authority. He slid his office chair out from the desk and leaned into the cushion. After a moment, he opened Brian's file, reviewing the carefully constructed documents forged by the Watchers' Council in Paris. Snyder scanned the pages for a moment, and Brian saw the principal's brows raise a fraction. "Well, you seem to have an impressive academic record. St. Joseph's Academy in Paris, where you received high marks. Top of your class, in fact."

Brian nodded once, but said nothing. _'Of course I finished top in my class. I was the only one in it.'_

Snyder frowned as he looked over the manila folder, his dark brown eyebrows pushing together in slight confusion. "It's funny, though. I don't recall ever having a foreign exchange student come this late in the year. Is your _speaky-English_ good?"

Brian nodded his head briefly, "My English is fine, Principal Snyder. But I'm not an exchange student, I'm transferring here from Paris, permanently."

He nodded in understanding and pressed a button on his phone, and the receptionist answered immediately. "Have Willow Rosenberg come to my office immediately." The receptionist acknowledged him and a moment later, Brian heard the P.A. system call for Willow. She appeared a few moments later at Snyder's door, her history book in one hand.

"Miss Rosenberg, please escort Mr. Wilson around the campus." She nodded, and Snyder reached forward and slid a few papers to Brian. "All right, then. Here is your class schedule and your locker number, combination and a hall pass for the both of you. And have your parents sign these forms and return them to me." Brian and Willow shared a pained look, before exiting the office. A beep from Snyder's phone broke his attention from leering at Willow's shapely backside. He exhaled forcefully, then stabbed angrily at the intercom button. "What?"

"The mayor is holding on line one." His receptionist answered immediately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Willow walked with Brian down the empty hallway of the high school, the blocky heels of her boots creating a click-clack that echoed along the mostly empty halls. Brian was comparing their class schedules, she smiled as she saw him notice the similar class list, as well as the subtle glances at her. It was weird having guys, as well as a few girls, taking longer than normal looks at her. But she thought she could get used to it.

He scanned his eyes down the two sheets of printout. "Wow, Willow, we have four classes together! History, English, Computer Science and Algebra! And we also have our free period and lunch at the same time!"

She smiled mostly to herself, she spent most of the previous evening and part of the night hacking into the high school mainframe and reorganizing his classes. "Uh, that's great… so, what's your first class, Brian?" She asked him innocently, knowing full well what it was - Sophomore English with Mrs. Randall.

He examined the flimsy piece of paper, noting the class at the top of the list. "It's, ummm, English Composition with Mrs. Randall."

Willow put on a surprised face. "What a surprise! Me, too." She grabbed his hand and half-dragged the boy down the hall and up the stairs to the second floor. "So, you wanna stop by your locker, first?"

He nodded and they searched for his locker, which turned out to be two doors down from hers, with Cordelia's locker in between. Brian gave her a sideways look when he noticed her sly smile. "Did you have something to with this Willow?"

Willow gave him a startled innocent look, but Brian saw through it. He frowned at her and fixed her with a stern gaze. Her smile faltered, and she relented. "Okay, I guess I hacked into the school's mainframe and adjusted your schedule." His look hardened. "A-and your locker number. I'm sorry, Brian. I guess I overdid it a little bit, didn't I?"

"A _little bit_?" Brian replied, his voice moving up half an octave. "Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered that you went to all this trouble over just me, but you could get into serious trouble if you got caught. You could get suspended, or worse… get kicked out of school altogether!"

Her shoulders sagged and she felt her eyes begin to burn with tears. He was right. She finally found somebody she liked and she blew it by moving way too fast too soon. She barely noticed the hand that reached down to caress her chin. She looked up hopefully, her eyes shining. "Still," Brian continued with a small smile. "That was really sweet to do all this for me. Thank you, Willow." And he leaned down just as she leaned forward and their lips met somewhere in the middle. There was no awkwardness in the kiss this time, and Willow leaned in to deepen the kiss, wrapping her arms around the taller boy's neck and pulling him to her.

Xander exited the boy's bathroom, absently wiping his hands off on a paper towel, and noticed the two embracing down the hall. More than just embracing, he realized after a moment. _'He's got his tongue halfway down her goddamned throat! That son a bitch!'_ A veil of red clouded his vision as he slapped the damp towel on the floor, which made a wet splattering sound on the cool linoleum floor, and stalked towards the couple.

Willow pulled away from the kiss, heaving from lack of oxygen. Not tearing her eyes away from Brian, she passed her hand over her swollen lips, still amazed at the feelings she was experiencing for the boy she barely knew. A movement from the corner of her eye drew her attention away; Xander was striding towards them with a determined look in his eye. She smiled, Xander had not spoken to her this morning, opting to just stare at her briefly before Brian showed up with Cordelia. "Morning, Xander. So how's Algebra this morn-"

Xander never turned to acknowledge his oldest friend, he just stepped past the redhead and his eyes were planted firmly on the new student he caught making out with Willow. Brian smiled warmly at Xander. Xander seemed kind of quiet this morning when they first met. Though he had to admit, Xander didn't really get an opportunity to get to know him, either. Brian opened his mouth to greet Willow's friend, but was quickly silenced by a fist to the jaw, which rocked Brian on his heels. His head jerked back, smacking harshly against the concrete wall; a sickly crack that resonated down the halls. Stars danced in his vision, which darkened as he passed out and collapsed into a heap on the floor. Willow choked back a scream, then pushed her way past Xander. She shoved him so hard, in fact, that Xander stumbled to the side and had to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling. Willow knelt down to the unconscious young man, checking for his pulse and then opening an eye to check to see if it was dilating properly. She turned her head quickly back to the source of her distress, glaring at Xander. Xander sucked in a breath in reaction to the look on her face. Never in the twelve years they had known each other had she looked at him this way. It was beyond anger or hatred. The look in her eyes; it was something undefined, something primal. And Xander couldn't be absolutely certain that she didn't growl at him before she leapt and tackled him to the ground.

"Have you _lost your mind_, Xander?" Willow roared at him, barely remembering to keep her voice down or run the risk of having a teacher or some other adult come out. As much as she hated Xander at this moment, she didn't want him in any trouble. "Or did you even have a mind to start with?" She grabbed him by the lapels of his wild purple and red paisley button-down shirt, then slammed him roughly back onto the tile floor.

Xander had his breath knocked from him, and he shook his head to clear the spots from his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw Willow leading Giles down the hall and carrying a first aid kit in her hands. Xander propped himself up on an elbow, praying that the wave of nausea would pass soon. Willow ignored him and moved past to kneel behind Brian, carefully unwrapping a palm-sized strip of gauze and placing it on the back of Brian's head. She pulled it away and was relieved when there was no blood on the gauze. She bunched up her jacket underneath Brian's head, then turned and glared at Xander once again, before reaching into the kit for a small bottle of smelling salts. She waved them under Brian's nose briefly and he spasmed back in surprise and shock.

The young Herald finally came to not long after Giles conscripted Xander into helping him carry Brian into the library. Xander started to protest, but quieted under the harsh scrutiny of the British Watcher. "Just what in the bloody hell were you thinking, Xander? I've a mind to turn you in to Principal Snyder… or perhaps just call your parents." Giles leaned towards the sullen Xander, waggling a finger in his face.

"But, you don't understand!," Xander complained. "He was-"

"Quite frankly, I don't care what Brian did or didn't do. You, by now, should understand the need to restrain yourself around this school. He could have been seriously hurt." Giles replied harshly. "And what if Principal Snyder had seen you?" He turned to inspect the patchwork done on Brian. There was a nice lump on the back of his head as well as the beginnings of a swollen lip, but fortunately no concussion.

Brian flinched as Willow applied a small ice pack to his lip, then smiled up to her in thanks. Brian glanced over at Xander, who was trying to be discreet and alternated glances between Willow and Brian. Brian narrowed his eyes at Xander, understanding Xander's need to protect his friend. And he was caught between the irritation caused by the golf-ball sized lump on the back of his head and his desire to make nice with Willow's closest and oldest friend.

"I suppose we each made a bad first impression," Brian offered to Xander tentatively. He held out his hand, which Xander stared at dubiously. "Hi, I'm Brian. Wanna try for a better second impression?"

Xander hesitated, glancing up to see Willow not more than five yards away; her arms crossed over her chest and staring intently at their conversation. Xander reached for Brian's hand and shook it. "Xander Harris." He introduced himself shortly.

"Quite the first day I'm having. Get up early. Go for a run. Come home to an English muffin. Get attacked by a rabid debutante in the parking lot. Get defended by a rabid Willow Rosenberg. Meeting with a fascist principal with ears so big that he reminded me of a Ferengi from Star Trek. And to top it all off: chipped teeth and cranial fracturing. And it's only 9:00." Brian narrated sardonically, mostly to himself but still loud enough for everyone to hear. "Top it off with a high colonic, and I think we can call it a full day."

Despite himself, Xander cracked a smile. "Sorry 'bout the... well, it's just, y'know…"

Brian nodded, though his eyes remained wary and hard. He rubbed absently at his distended lip, wincing as the sharp pain washed over him. "Just defending Willow. I understand. _This_ time. Next time, though, I could get a little… _peeved_." He punctuated his statement with a slightly raised eyebrow and a waved finger under Xander's nose. "And next time, I'll be ready for it."

Xander swallowed audibly and nodded.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buffy stopped in shortly before lunch, wanting to check in with her Watcher. She found Giles busying pouring over a thick and dusty dark brown tome. "Morning, Giles." She called out in greeting.

The British librarian poked his head up in surprise, glancing at his wristwatch, then smiling at his charge. "Oh, good morning, Buffy. Though just barely. It seems I was rather… preoccupied with my books this morning."

Buffy smiled wryly. "And this is different from any other day?"

Despite himself, he couldn't force a stern glare to the surface. He chuckled low in his throat. "Uh, yes, quite."

"The reason I stopped by was because last night I was on patrol and this vamp totally had me." Giles paled and sat back down in his chair, his eyes urging her to continue. "I slipped in some mud and the vamp got me by the throat and he would've had me if this guy hadn't come out of nowhere. I didn't see much, what with the mind numbing pain and lack of oxygen, but he was good. _Very_ good. I think he had a sword."

Giles absorbed her story, reaching for his glasses and absently cleaning the lenses with a handkerchief. "But you're alright?"

Buffy nodded, reaching up to pull at her beige and black turtleneck sweater and expose the mass of blue and red ligature marks that circumnavigated her slender neck. "I am thanks to him. I saw him again this morning. He's a student here."

Giles smiled. "Oh, then you must mean Brian." Off Buffy had a stunned look as he continued. "Willow brought the young man in earlier after Xander… punched him in the mouth."

"Xander _hit_ him? What for? Is he okay?" Buffy exclaimed.

Giles compressed his lips into a thin line. "Brian is fine. Just a swollen lip and bruise on the back of his head. Fortunately for Xander, he did not feel the need to retaliate. I didn't receive the entire story, but from what I could piece together, Xander took exception to Brian and Willow kissing in the halls."

Buffy growled. "Xander Harris. Now there's a dead man walking."

Giles placed a calming hand on Buffy's shoulder. "I think the situation has been rectified, and I don't need you antagonizing them." Buffy frowned, but finally nodded reluctantly. She was eager to finally set a few things straight where Xander and Willow were concerned. But Giles was right; as much as she wanted to, it was not her place for her to force the issue.

When lunchtime came, Willow guided Brian through the large cafeteria, ignoring the interested looks she was suddenly getting from the other boys, and quashing the jealousy she felt when she noticed the similar looks Brian was getting from the girls. If Brian noticed anything, he made no show of it. She quickly found 'their' table, where Buffy and Xander were already seated and munching on what appeared to be what Willow referred to as 'hot dog surprise.' Brian smiled as he remembered to bring his own lunch. He grimaced at the sight of the red-brown 'stew', the fat content and the empty calories alone would have him running extra miles and doing extra sit-ups for the rest of the week to just to work that off. He didn't even want to contemplate the salt content. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a plastic container of pasta salad with chunks of grilled chicken, green and red peppers, carrot slices and egg whites, another container of sliced apples and a bottle of spring water.

Xander took a long glance at Brian's so-called lunch then looked down at his Twinkies and 'hot-dog surprise.' He spooned another mouthful of the beans, savoring the rich, salty taste, ignoring the acidic feeling in his stomach it gave him. _'If he wants to eat that sissy food, who am I to stop him,'_ Xander thought to himself. He punctuated his thought with a deep roaring belch that caused the entire student body to stop their eating to stare at him. "'Scuse me." He announced guiltily and hung his head inside his multi-colored shirt. Buffy and Willow shared a disgusted look, but said nothing. Brian made no comment, and quietly dug into his salad.

"I never really got the chance to thank you for saving me last night. So where'd you learn those moves?" Buffy asked the new kid.

Xander looked up sharply, hearing that Willow's boyfriend saved Buffy's life. "He saved your _life_? When was this?" Xander interrupted.

"Well," Buffy replied, a little nastily. "If you had paid attention earlier, I told you I was fighting a vam- er, this _guy_, and my heel slipped in the mud. Brian came along and kicked the guy's ass before it, er… _he_, could strangle me to death." She turned back to Brian. "So, where're you from? Why did your parents move to Sunnydale?"

Willow and Brian winced when Buffy mentioned Brian's parents, but made no comments. "Well, I was born in Seattle, but I was raised in Paris."

"Paris? As in Paris, _France_?" Buffy answered in shock. Brian nodded hesitantly, looking around the cafeteria in fear that people would stop and stare at them. "That is so cool!" Buffy concluded. Buffy was once again interrupted from her subtle interrogation, but this time by a crash coming from the exit of the lunch line.

Larry Blaisedale was laughing and standing over a fallen student: a mousy little guy with short black hair, now sporting a red-brown stain all across the front of his blue Mr. Spock T-shirt. Sheets of notebook paper and books were strewn about the linoleum floor. Larry who was still laughing at the fallen little nerd, was a beefy tree trunk of a high school student and from all accounts, neither the nicest guy in town nor the smartest. Before any teacher could assist the fallen boy, Buffy and Brian were out of their seats. Buffy, being closest, reached Jonathan first, offering him a hand up and a handful of paper napkins. He scowled once at Larry before accepting the Slayer's hand gratefully. "I'm gonna tell Snyder you tripped me, you big ox!" Jonathan threatened.

Larry stepped up to face the smaller Jonathan, who only reached eye level with the Razorback patch of Larry's varsity jacket. Larry looked down menacingly. "You're gonna _what_, shrimp?" The joints in Larry's hand crackled as he flexed his fist.

Jonathan paled noticeably and shrunk away behind Buffy. Buffy leaned in to defend the smaller boy, but was stopped by Brian. "I think he said he's going to inform the principal." Brian replied evenly.

"Who the hell are you?" Larry asked. He saw the taller boy and gave him a less than subtle once over, grinning wickedly in the process.

Brian fought down a wave of revulsion, and hoped Larry was only sizing him up for a fight, but wasn't betting on it. "I'm asking you to apologize to him and help him get cleaned up." Brian turned his head to catch Jonathan. "I'll bet he wouldn't tell Snyder if you apologized. Would you?" Jonathan considered it for a moment, before nodding his agreement.

Larry's face curled up in disgust. "I ain't apologizin' to that little dork!" Buffy had to put a restraining hand across Jonathan to prevent him from saying something he'd regret.

Brian sighed. "That's… unfortunate. For you, that is." He caught the questioning look in Larry's eyes and continued. "Well, with the State championship coming up on Friday, I bet the team would be pretty hurt if their star player was unable to compete. Maybe even lose altogether. You wouldn't want that, would you?" There was something in the tone of the new kid's voice, it made so much sense to Larry. Brian's voice reverberated in his mind, making him focus. Focus on the game. The team. It was so clear to him now. He just _couldn't_ miss this week's football game. The coach'd kill him!

Buffy smiled widely as she saw the gears working inside the Neanderthal's brain. Suddenly, it clicked for Larry, who grabbed the napkins roughly from Buffy's hand and sloughed the beany stew from Jonathan's shirt. "I'm not gonna let you keep me from the game Friday, you little pudwacker! So… um, I'm sorry. Okay?"

Jonathan winced at the rough treatment, as well as being called a 'pudwacker.' "I don't know, Larry. It didn't sound like you really meant that."

Larry glared at the little punk, and clenched his fists. But again Brian intervened. "I think that's the best you're gonna get. So what do you say? Is all forgiven?"

Jonathan shrugged halfheartedly. It was more than he really could have expected, anyhow. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

Brian and Buffy walked back casually to the table, satisfied with the outcome and glad it didn't have to end in violence. Buffy turned to the new kid. "I can't believe you talked him out of that. I was prepared to have to pound the snot out of that jerk."

Brian shrugged as he reached the table, his seat still waiting for him next to Willow. She and Xander both wore curious expressions as the two returned. "Father Darius told me once that if you remind someone once of the cost of an action, it will usually make them think twice about the result. And getting into a fight would have only gotten us _all_ in trouble." He looked over to Xander, who glared at him for a moment. But the glare had no force behind it, and Xander reluctantly nodded his agreement.

Willow nodded. "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?" Brian nodded with a smile.

"Still," Buffy continued. "Larry can't be _that_ dumb. Football season ended months ago. And the team didn't win a single game all year, let alone get to the state championship."

Brian's eyes widened in surprise and began to laugh softly. He looked over to Larry, who was sitting by himself at a table, shaking his head. "Really? Man, I guess he really _is_ that dumb."

Brian, Buffy, Xander and Willow stopped in the library after the final period, finding Giles pouring over a thick leather-bound volume, with the title written in gold etchings and in German. Giles felt the shift in air pressure more than he heard the double doors swing open. He lifted his head, curious who would disturb him during the afternoon. He glanced again at his watch, surprised to find it was after three o'clock. "Oh, hello, everyone. I trust your first day was satisfactory, Brian?"

Brian nodded and sat down, draping his backpack across a corner of the back of his chair. "It was fine. Um, Mr. Giles, I need you to sign these papers Principal Snyder gave me."

Willow frowned, and her forehead crinkled up in confusion. But Buffy voiced her thoughts for her. "Huh? Why would Giles have to sign those for you? Aren't your parents supposed to sign those?"

Brian started to reply, but the Giles spoke up. "Because Brian is an orphan, Buffy. He's has no parents. I am his legal guardian."

Buffy, Xander and Willow all blinked their surprise, before erupting with a volcano of questions, both for Brian and for Giles. Wanting to nip it in the bud, Giles waved away their questions. "All in due time. Let's allow Brian some time to acclimate before giving him the third degree." He stared down any attempt Buffy or Xander had to continue with their questions. Finally, quiet reigned again. "Now, Brian, I was wondering how you would feel about training with Buffy today. If you feel up to it, of course."

Brian nodded eagerly, but Willow objected quickly. "Wait a minute, mister! I don't think so!" Buffy and Xander smirked at Willow's behavior. "You still have a nasty lump of your head." She reached to his scalp, searching for the golf-ball sized lump near the back of his head, but surprisingly found none. She frowned deeply, moving her hand around his head. "Take off your shirt." She ordered, prompting Xander, Buffy and Giles to balk. She ignored them, even going so far as to reach down and tug at Brian's waist. He shooed her hands away and obediently pulled up his shirt, knowing just what she was looking for. Willow sucked in a breath as he revealed his trim and well-muscled torso, but could only find a slight remnant of the deep yellow-black bruise he sported on Saturday night. "But, you… there was a huge bruise there, Giles. From where a vampire kicked him. And it's almost gone! It's only been a couple of days, how can it already be gone?" She released the hem of Brian's shirt and Brian began tucking the undershirt back into his slacks.

Giles considered for a moment how much to reveal to the young red head. He reached for his glasses and began rubbing the lenses with a handkerchief. Willow knew this action meant he was about to reveal something important, so she sat back down next to Brian. Giles glanced over to Brian, wondering how much he could reveal in good conscience. Sighing, Giles began slowly. "It appears that Brian is a… warrior… for the Powers That Be."

Their eyes widened at the revelation, except Brian who simply sighed. Willow spoke first. "He's a Slayer? Like Buffy?"

"Buffy is the Slayer?" Brian questioned.

Buffy nodded with a smile. Brian chuckled under his breath for a moment, before seeing the look of irritation on the Slayer's face. "What? You're surprised I'm the Slayer?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I expected you to be taller or something." Buffy narrowed her eyes at the new boy, but said nothing. After all, Angel said pretty much the same thing when he first met her.

Giles shook his head. "Slayers are always female. And there can only be one at a time. When one dies, another is called. Brian is what is called the Herald. The Herald of the End Times, to be precise." Giles sat down. "The details are sketchy, but according to the writings, he will battle a great evil, and the fate of all mankind will hang in the balance."

"Hmmm, just so there's no pressure or anything." Xander commented, mostly to himself but received a jab in the ribcage from Buffy and a stern look from Giles.

Willow shot a horrified look to Brian, who sighed and shrugged. She couldn't believe what Giles had just told them. "I'd understand," Brian whispered. "If you didn't want to be around me anymore. It's too dangerous." He stood up abruptly, forcibly tearing his gaze away from Willow. "This is my duty. I should go. I'm really sorry if I hurt you, Willow."

"No, you can't go!" Willow cried, and Brian turned around but failed to meet her stunned gaze. She threw a pointed and meaningful to Buffy and Giles. "Giles!"

Giles fumbled for a moment. "Er, um, yes, Willow. Brian, please sit down. Willow and Xander have been helping Buffy and me for quite awhile now. I think you can trust them to help you as well."

Brian smiled, but it was a sad smile. "It isn't that. I'm worried that somebody will get hurt."

"That's pretty much a daily risk here on the Hellmouth." Xander added, much to the surprise of everyone in the room, including Xander. "We're probably safer with you and Buffy around than on our own."

Brian looked hopefully to Giles, who nodded and welcomed him back into the group. Willow and Buffy scooted closer to the newest member, laughing and telling him stories of their 'adventures.' Even Xander seemed to warm up slightly. Giles got up to refill his tea cup, and took a long look at the group, then reached for Dawson's address to prepare an update.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In an abandoned warehouse on the other side of town, David Scott-Thomas set his headphones down on the makeshift counter, suppressing a surprised gasp. _'The Herald is in Sunnydale!'_ He moved to the phone next to his recording equipment and jammed a bony finger on the speed dial. It rang only once. He spoke without introduction in his cultured British inflection. "I just received confirmation. The Herald is in Sunnydale."

On the other side of the continent, in a penthouse apartment overlooking the New York skyline, James Horton smiled. "Excellent. Tell no one. Make no reports. I will be there tomorrow." Horton disconnected the line before the Watcher could voice his surprise or his objection. Horton turned to his secretary, a lithe young brunette with piercing blue eyes, wavy dark brown hair and full lips. "Have the jet fueled and ready in an hour, Jessica. I want to be in Los Angeles as soon as possible."

Jessica nodded and slid off the satin-sheeted mattress, not bothering to cover herself, and giving Horton an excellent view of her naked backside as she sauntered into the adjoining office. Not that Horton gave it more than a cursory glance, he was busy dialing his phone. "Yes, put him on the phone. Tell him that it's James Horton." There was a lengthy pause. "Yes, it's good to hear from you, as well. It has been awhile, indeed. I will be arriving in town shortly and I thought you and I should get together, perhaps over dinner. I believe I have some information you might find… _interesting_."

There was another shorter pause, and Horton laughed. "Yes, I believe that can be arranged. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Good day."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Giles winced as another in a long series of high kicks caught the unprotected area near his shoulder. He held up both hands to forestall Buffy's next salvo, but not quickly enough to stop the last one, which caught him across the chest and knocked him to the floor, and knocking the air from his lungs.

Buffy shrieked in fear as her Watcher collapsed against the small staircase that led to the stacks. "Oh my God! Giles, are you okay?" She reached down to offer the older man a hand up, but he waved it away.

"Thank you, Buffy. I think I'll just lie here a moment. Perhaps I'll rethink my choice of vocation while I catch the remnants of my breath." Giles puffed out painfully. Already he could feel the swelling around his breastbone the size and shape of a size seven Nike Air Jordan, complete with tread marks and an inverted Nike symbol pressed into his chest.

Buffy gnawed at her lower lip, concerned for her mentor. Already Willow and Brian were coming over with the first aid kit and Xander was kneeling beside Giles, checking for a concussion. "He'll be alright." Xander confirmed. "Just got the wind knocked out of him, I think."

Giles nodded. "Perhaps it would be best for the time being for Buffy to spar with Brian."

Willow looked over doubtfully to Brian, who nodded. The redhead pulled him aside. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright." Brian assured her. Willow didn't like it, and there wasn't really much she could do to stop him. She shrugged and sat down to watch. And be ready to stop it before anyone got hurt.

Brian moved to the far corner of the padded mat that Giles had Xander and him lay out earlier. He had changed into a pair of maroon Sunnydale High School sweatpants and a plain yellow t-shirt, while Buffy had on a black and light blue striped spandex jogging suit. They had agreed to start out with hand-to-hand to try to test each other's abilities. They danced in towards the center of the mat, studying each other for weaknesses. Buffy struck first with a punch to the ribs followed by a high kick to the side of Brian's head. 

Brian easily sidestepped Buffy's right hook, then immediately ducked as her leg soared over his head. Off balance, Buffy could not avoid the leg sweep that took her down to the mat with a grunting thud. Immediately, Buffy rolled on her back to a standing position, and threw a quick nod to Brian in silent congratulations. The Slayer then launched herself at the Herald's midsection. Brian leapt straight up, and for a moment, seemed to hover in mid-air as Buffy passed underneath him. His foot shot straight down and his heel caught Buffy between her shoulder blades. She hit the mat again face first with a nasty crash. Willow, Xander and Giles all winced as Buffy was sent sprawling to the mat, but they made no comment to distract the warriors. Buffy turned around angrily, "Okay. Fine. No more Miss Nice Slayer."

Brian nodded with a slight smirk, then set himself to receive her assault. Buffy launched into a series of spinning kicks, most were either blocked or ducked under, but inevitably, one made contact, throwing Brian back eight feet through the air and into the cinderblock wall. His vision began to narrow, but he fought off unconsciousness and staggered back towards the mat. "Kid gloves are off, huh?" Brian commented sarcastically, mostly to give himself time to recover from Buffy's powerful kick. Willow met Giles' worried gaze, but Giles threw up a hand to allow the fight to continue… for the moment.

The stars dancing in Brian's vision finally cleared, and he tossed a cocky grin to the Slayer. "Good. Now it's my turn." Brian challenged icily. Buffy paused a moment, surprised that he could just shrug off a hit like that. She once caught Giles with a similar kick and they didn't spar for almost a week. Brian set himself into a combat stance on the corner of the mat, his palm opened in front of him as a guard. He inverted his palm at Buffy and made a 'come here' motion with his fingers. Buffy nodded eagerly and ran towards her target, scanning his stance for a weakness. He feigned left with a crescent kick and that was Buffy's opening. Or so she thought.

Brian brought his leg straight down in mid-kick, just as Buffy committed herself to her uppercut to Brian's seemingly exposed front. She never saw the thundering open-handed punch to her sternum, everything just suddenly went dark. Brian's punch caught her squarely in the chest and sent her flying back several feet across the mat, landing unconscious on the floor near the audio-visual cart.

Everyone leapt to action, Giles and Xander reached Buffy simultaneously, relieved when they heard soft moans coming from the fallen Slayer. Willow immediately ran to Brian's side, who was now sitting heavily on the padded mat, checking his swollen chin for more serious damage. There was some blood from a cut to the underside of his lower lip and a swollen bruise was beginning to form, but no permanent damage. Xander turned to see Willow rush to Brian's side, and a rush of anger and jealousy swept through him again, but he clamped down on it. Giles rolled up his sleeves and helped the fallen girl to her feet, just as Buffy was beginning to come to. "Giles, he's a bad, bad man. No wanna play with him no more." Buffy moaned petulantly, then slipped back into unconsciousness.

Giles chuckled, despite his best efforts not to and carried his Slayer to one of the library chairs. "Well, I dare say that was… _informative_." He turned to his newest charge, a curious sense of pride running through him. "Well, Brian, I must say, I am quite impressed. Your technique is absolutely flawless. Darius has trained you quite well." Giles reached out to help the boy up. And that was when Brian noticed Giles' wrist. He wore the same tattoo as the man who murdered Darius. Brian sucked in a breath, and he hurriedly pushed Willow behind him.

"Brian, what-?" Willow cried.

"Stay back, you murdering bastard!" Brian ordered the Watcher with a raised fist toward the Watcher, and he began pulling Willow away and out towards the exit.

"Brian, wait. Wait, don't go! I can explain!" Giles called out desperately.

Brian turned around angrily, tears burning his eyes and blurring his vision. "What can you possibly say that can explain why you killed a priest?" Willow looked torn between Brian, the boy she was beginning to fall for, and Giles, the man she considered a father figure. If Brian was telling the truth… no, she couldn't even comprehend Giles murdering a priest.

Xander looked up from his position, confusion evident in his features. "Giles, what is he talking about?" Giles didn't answer him. Didn't even turn his attention away from the boy.

Willow stepped between the two, forcing Giles to acknowledge her. "Giles, tell him. Tell him you had nothing to do with it." The redhead commanded urgently.

"I can't, Willow." Giles replied softly, so low she was barely able to hear him. "I'm sorry."

Xander stepped up next to the British librarian. "I don't understand, Giles. Why can't you tell him?"

"I'm sorry. I can't tell him," Giles' shoulders slumped, and suddenly he felt thousands of years older. "Because it's true."


	5. Chapter Four

**__**

Chapter Four

'The Devil went down to Georgia.

He was looking for a soul to steal.

He was in a bind, he was way behind.

He was looking to make a deal…'

The Charlie Daniels Band, 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia'

****

A brand new black 7-series BMW rolled up to the curb, the tires crunching on loose gravel as it slowed to a halt. An impeccably-dressed man with a head of receding medium brown hair stepped out of the vehicle, looking around for a moment before lighting up a cigarette. He exhaled a blue-gray cloud of smoke, and his muscles began to relax from the nicotine. He walked a few steps over to the corner of the curb, fishing out a handful of change from his pocket to buy a newspaper. 'Three Killed In Latest Gang Attack' was the headline of the Sunnydale Times. The man rolled his eyes and stifled a laugh as he read to front page under the soft yellow-white glow of a street light. Gang attack. Yeah, right.

The snap of a broken twig from behind him alerted him to the presence of another. He turned around slowly, and was face-to-face with a greasy haired vampire wearing a powder blue leisure suit, white leather shoes and stinking of _'High Karate.'_ The man looked at his watch for a long moment, before his gaze returned to the vampire. "You're late." He growled at the vamp, then waved him back to his car.

The vampire shrugged, and his face morphed back to its human visage. "Sorry, my watch is slow."

The other man waved his excuse away disgustedly. "I don't care. Just get in the car. I don't have all night." He turned to look at the vampire once more. "And what is with that suit? Good Lord, you do know it's 1997, right?"

"I was going for a retro look." The vampire defended, as he sat down in the back seat. Next to him was a cadaverously thin man in a cheap brown tweed suit. In the front seat, a beautiful young brunette sat cross-legged, quietly typing notes into a lap-top computer. "What, you don't like it?"

The brown-haired man just glared at him as he keyed the ignition and gunned the BMW's engine. "You look like a reject from Saturday Night Fever."

The vampire chuckled. "Yeah, I loved that movie." The driver just rolled his eyes and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"_What!?!_" Willow cried, certain she had not heard Giles correctly. Even Xander had unconsciously taken a step back away from Giles and moved towards Brian.

Giles slumped down in a chair opposite the slow-to-awaken Buffy. He took a deep breath, and shook his head slowly. "Brian, please have a seat. All of you, please sit down." He took off his glasses and began to wipe them with his handkerchief.

Brian and Willow shared a look, then reluctantly took their seats. Xander shrugged then took a seat near Buffy. "I belong to an ancient group called the Society of Watchers," Giles began carefully, absently fingering the bluish-black tattoo. "Among other things, we have protected, trained and guided Slayers for thousands of years…"

"One of the other things being me." Brian replied flatly.

Giles nodded. "Yes. When you were found, we sent you to an associate of ours."

"Darius." Brian answered.

Again, the librarian nodded and continued. "That's correct. He raised you and trained you. And prepared you for your destiny. But another…" Giles took a moment. "Another of our group, James Horton, he became jealous of your destiny. He used our group for his own ends. He took a handful of Watchers and went rogue."

"So this Watcher, Horton…" Brian started carefully, a cold pit of fear beginning to form in his belly. "He was really after me. He killed Darius to get to me."

"We think so, Brian. That's why you were sent here. It's my job to protect you now. You and Buffy." Giles told him with as much firmness as he could manage. "All of you are my responsibility."

"I have to go!" Brian stated immediately. He stood so abruptly that Willow was nearly thrown from her seat.

"Brian, wait!" Willow called to him, chasing him out of the library and into the school's main hallway. "Brian, _wait_!"

Brian spun around, tears streaming down his face. "I have to go, Willow. I have to."

"No!" Willow all but shouted at him. "We'll fix this, Brian. That's what we do. Giles will research and we'll find a way to stop this guy."

Brian tried to smile at her hopefulness, but it never quite made it to his lips. He shook his head sadly. "This isn't some ten-thousand year old prophecy of doom in some musty old book in some long dead language. This is just an everyday murdering psychopath. A psychopath that wants me dead. And I'm scared to death…"

"We'll protect you, Brian!" Willow cried out, hot trails of tears now tracing lines down her cheeks. "You don't have to be afraid."

"Not for me, damn it," Brian replied tiredly, running a hand across his face and rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. "I'm petrified that he'll hurt _you_! I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. Any of you… Xander, Buffy, Giles, Cordelia… all of you, even that idiot Larry from the cafeteria. Darius said it is my job in this world to protect people, and the only way I can be sure of that is by leaving."

"But you're not really leaving," a voice echoed from down the hall. "You're running away." It was Xander, leaning against the open wooden door to the library. "I'll admit, at first I didn't like you." He continued in an offhand tone. "Still not sure I do, though Willow seems to like you, and she's a pretty darn good judge of character. I doubt she'd fall for a coward."

Brian stiffened in Willow's arms at the insult. _'That hit below the belt,'_ Brian thought. "Damn it, Xander. This isn't about courage, it's about keeping people alive. How would you feel if Willow got caught in the crossfire? Huh? Or Buffy? Or Cordelia?"

Xander crossed his arms over his chest, and pondered the thought. "Hmmm, if it's Cordy, then you'll have to let me sleep on it."

"This isn't funny, Xander. People's lives are at stake here!" Brian shot back.

"That's right." Xander countered hotly, all traces of mirth gone from his face. "And it's our choice to stay and fight. Buffy tried this same argument with us in the beginning, and it didn't work then. We already know about the danger, and we don't care. It won't stop us from helping, whether you like it or not. Now you need someone to watch your back. And we're offering to help. Now, are you gonna run like a girl… or stay and fight?"

Brian narrowed his eyes at the young man, then shook his head slowly. "It's not that simple, Xander. This guy is serious, he's killed before…"

"And I told you, I don't care… we're willing to take this risk." Xander replied with an ease he really didn't feel. "Aren't we, Will?" Willow nodded eagerly without saying a word, and pulled Brian back into the library where Giles and a now semi-conscious Buffy were waiting for them.

"Hey, guys. What'd I miss?" Buffy asked them tiredly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

David Scott-Thomas suppressed a shiver as they walked through the series of dirty underground caves. It wasn't so much the eerie shifting shadows from the torches that occasionally lined the cave walls, but the fact that his leader was willingly being led by a vampire to this secret meeting. No good can come of this, he was certain. He glanced over to Jessica, Horton's silent assistant, and the stunningly beautiful woman showed no signs of being either concerned or frightened. At best, she seemed bored or indifferent. She stayed a full pace behind Horton, carrying a silver briefcase and her laptop computer.

The vampiric guide opened a thick wooden door that let out an ominous screech that caused David to nearly leap out of his own skin. The door opened to a large chamber, heavy with the scent of musty earth. And of death. He scanned the room, according to intelligence reports, it was a church that was at the epicenter of a massive earthquake. It was nearly sucked whole into the ground, carrying the Master with it.

The chamber was wide and filled with flickering shadows from the dozens of candles placed throughout. Several minions were stationed along the exits, their feral yellow eyes focused hungrily on the humans, causing a shiver to pass through David. The sound of clapping broke him out of his terror, and he looked up to find the Master rising from his makeshift throne at the top of the raised dais. A wide toothy smile graced the Master's bone-white face as he descended the stairs to greet the new arrivals.

"Welcome!," he nearly shouted in excitement, rubbing his hands together then gesturing to a burgundy plush sofa near the stone wall. "It has been so long since we've had guests. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Slayer swooned as she became more aware of her surroundings. She was more than a little woozy after her practice with Brian. She shook her head in an effort to clear the cobwebs, but only managed to make herself more nauseous. Giles was kneeling next to his charge, flashing a pen light in her eyes, while she fought to keep her lunch down. The library doors reopened, with Xander leading Brian and Willow back. Even from that distance, Buffy could see Brian was upset. Smiling weakly, Buffy called out to her friends. "Hey, guys. What'd I miss?"

Xander looked to Willow and the others. "Oh, um…" He caught a warning look from Giles and shut up quickly. "Nothing much."

Brian caught the suspicious look in Buffy's eyes and hastened to change the subject. "Ummm… Willow, Xander and I were talking about going back to my house and ordering a pizza, maybe renting a movie or something. Wanna come with?"

Buffy nodded eagerly, and stood ready to leave the library immediately. But her legs gave out as she stood, and Giles had to move quickly to catch her before she toppled to the floor. "I think not, Brian." Giles replied. "I believe Buffy has a mild concussion. Perhaps it would be best if we concluded training for the evening. You three should go and… er, _hang out_, I believe is the phrase you children use today."

Brian looked on guiltily, throwing an apologetic look to the Slayer, as Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around the librarian. He and Xander took the weakened Slayer in their arms and guided her out to Giles' old and battered Citroen. "I'm _fine_, guys. Really." Buffy protested repeatedly to no avail. Giles turned the key in the ignition and the dilapidated automobile sputtered to life. The car shuddered violently a few times before settling down to a low roar as Giles set the car into gear and drove away.

Willow sighed before turning to Brian and Xander. "Pizza sounds like a good idea, Brian. But are you sure you're okay?"

Brian nodded, but passed his car keys over to a shocked Xander. "I'll be fine, but I'm not sure I'm up to driving right now. You have your license, right?"

Xander was about to answer his affirmative, but a high pitched shriek interrupted him. Without a word, Brian bolted across the campus leaving a startled Xander and Willow to follow. Brian found Cordelia surrounded by three hungry looking vampires. One had her by the neck with her right arm pinned behind her back, while her other arm was keeping the vamp from biting him as she clawed at his face and kicked away from the other two vamps. The leader vamp roared in agony as her nails dug out thin lines of flesh from around his eyes, but refused to let go of his meal.

Brian leapt up on the roof of Cordelia's Dodge Stratus, using it as a springboard to leap even higher. He tucked his legs into his body and rolled forward, carrying his momentum. Completing his somersault, Brian landed feet first on the two minions, sending them stumbling to the asphalt. Showing nearly no reaction to Brian's acrobatics, Willow just left a gawking Xander on the sidewalk and pulled a stake from her purse, kneeling down and dispatching the two stunned vampires. Xander recovered quickly, pulling the stake from his jacket pocket and drove it into the lead vampire's back. The leader never knew what hit him as he dissolved into fine gray ash, much of it coating the back of Cordelia's hair.

Cordelia shrieked as the fine gray powder fluttered into her hair. She stomped around, brushing the particles from her. "Damn it!," she cried. "I just had Giorgio do my hair this afternoon. And now it's ruined!"

Xander and Willow both rolled their eyes. "Are you okay?" Xander asked.

A moment passed and Xander wondered if she even heard him before she nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm fine, Xander." She turned to look at him, and Xander was suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity in her eyes. "Thank you, Xander. If it weren't for you guys, I'd be dead for sure." Quickly, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Xander's waist, enveloping him in her embrace. When she didn't immediately pull away, Xander wrapped his arms around her, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Willow caught Xander's questioning look and offered him one of her own.

Cordelia's mind was reeling with sensations. Just what in the Hell possessed her to latch onto that loser, Xander Harris? Which begged the question, 'why the Hell wasn't she letting go?' _'It must be the trauma,'_ Cordelia thought. _'Yeah, that has to be it. God, has he been working out? Oh, and that aftershave! Bad thoughts, Cordy. Don't go there. You know Xander Harris is off limits!'_ Even a little more reluctantly than she would have liked to admit, Cordelia allowed her embrace to slacken and Xander released his hold on her. A part of her mind was pleased to note that Xander held on for several moments before finally letting go.

Brian sheepishly buffed away at the scuff mark on the hood of her car with the sleeve of his sweater. Though his work didn't accomplish much more than moving the dirt around. "Sorry about your car, Cordy."

"Don't worry about it. It's only a car." Cordy replied with a smirk, causing Xander and Willow to look on in surprise. Only a car? They both remembered the day Cordelia rolled in to the school parking lot, showing off her 'Sweet 16' birthday present from her daddy, nearly causing her to be late for class as a result. She turned toward the classic Corvette, rubbing her palm across the chrome surrounding the headlamp. "Now, this… this is _art_." She locked eyes with Brian, and he got the distinct feeling of being the prey again.

"W-w-we were gonna all head back to m-my place… for pizza. You wanna come?" He picked up on the turn of his phrase, and immediately regretted it.

Willow's eyes flared as Cordelia licked her lips in a rather unsubtle reaction. "Absolutely." Cordy breathed.

"Great!," Brian replied. He turned to Xander and Willow. "I guess that makes four. Willow, why don't you and Cordy follow us?" Willow nodded eagerly, pulling on Cordelia's arm and silencing her protests.

Xander, on the other hand, was giddy with anticipation. He turned the key in the ignition, and the vehicle roared to life. He slammed to gearshift into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot, earning a harsh glare from Brian. "That was a little of my tires you left back there." Brian calmly announced, secretly hiding a grin. He had done that, too, the first time he drove the Corvette.

Sufficiently chastised, Xander slowed the car to a more law-abiding speed, watching in the mirror as Cordelia nearly spun out in her haste to leave the school, as well. Brian heard the squeal of the Status' tires and checked his rear-view mirror. He could see a terrified Willow fumbling at her seat belt, then covering her hands over her eyes. Brian chuckled as he pulled out his cell phone, conferring with Xander as to the phone number of the local pizza parlor and everyone's favorite toppings.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Master smiled indulgently and closed a hand over his mouth to suppress a belch. He tossed a disdainful look over the drained corpse of David Scott-Thomas, and motioned with a flick of his wrist for two of the guards to drag the body away. He leaned back against his high-backed throne, stretching his arms out to the side. "Oh, it's always a treat to feast upon a fresh kill. Though I do so miss the hunt. It has been so long."

"Over sixty years, if my information is accurate," Horton replied offhandedly. "Though this new information should correct this unfortunate situation." He popped open the latch on his briefcase, and slid a thin manila folder across the table.

Lazily, the Master opened the folder, skimming the contents and offering surprised and amused grunts. Horton watched his eyes as he skimmed down the page, and smiled as the Master's eyes widened considerably. The Master paused, soaking in the feelings of joy the information caused him. "James, my good man. I do believe this will most certainly be worth doing business with you."

The two rose, and Horton extended his hand in agreement. The Master grasped Horton's in a firm handshake, then pulled the Watcher to him and tore savagely into his neck. Horton struggled briefly and let out a strangled cry, then went slack in the Master's arms. Two large bodyguards intercepted Jessica as she turned to run, pulling her struggling form back toward the vampire king.

The Master leaned away from the fallen Watcher and let out a sigh of contentment. He saw the anger and fear on the face of Horton's assistant, and he laughed. "Oh, he's not dead, my dear. Well, he is," he reconsidered. "But not for much longer." With a sharpened talon, he sliced a thin line across his wrist, letting the wound drip over Horton's opened mouth. After a moment, the bleeding wound resealed itself and the Master instructed the guards to take the body to one of the empty chambers. "It has been so long since I've made a childe, I nearly forgot what it was like. But since, that little Slayer came to town, I've lost so many… Thomas, Darla, Luke. Oh, it breaks the heart."

Despite herself, Jessica nearly felt sorrow as he expressed his feelings of loss, then reminded herself that he was a soulless demon. She shivered involuntarily as he turned his yellowed and bloodshot eyes towards her. "What to do with you?" He asked, mostly rhetorically. He considered it for a long moment before settling on a most joyous decision. "I will leave the decision up to you: you can die, or you can live."

Jessica swallowed audibly, and let out a shuddering breath. Her eyes tracked the fallen corpses of David Scott-Thomas and James Horton. She wrapped her arms around her chest and began to cry. The Master leaned in close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to offer some measure of comfort. "It's not so bad, despite what they tell you. I can offer you the world at my right hand, money, power… _men_," he offered seductively, stroking his taloned finger gently across her pale cheek. "Or women, who am I to judge?"

Despite her best efforts, a small giggle escaped her lips. She looked up and shook her head at that suggestion. Her eyes fell back on the fallen form of James. The ancient vampire tracked her gaze, till it rested on her dead lover. "Oh, I see." He nodded in understanding. "Well, I don't think that would be a problem. In fact, I foresee a long and happy romance with the two of you at my side. Doesn't that just sound wonderful?"

It did sound wonderful to her. It was exactly what she had always dreamt of: an eternity of happiness and love with her James. But was this her James anymore? She pondered it for only a moment, then decided she didn't care. She looked up to the demon next to her. "W-will it… hurt?" She offered cautiously, and barely above a whisper.

The Master nodded reluctantly. "Were I able to spare you that, I would, my dear. But it will only hurt for a moment, and then the world will be in our grasp."

A single teardrop found its way down her cheek, but was brushed away by the vampire's fingertip. "Don't cry, child. This is a moment that fills me with nothing but happiness and pride. As it should you. My family is coming back to me. I shall not be alone when I leave this accursed place." She cried out briefly as his fangs punctured her tender flesh. But he was right, it only hurt for a moment.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Will you slow down, Cordelia? God, you're going to get us _killed!_" Willow screamed at the top of her lungs. Cordelia shrugged indifferently, turning her head back to watch the road. Obediently, she lessened her pressure on the accelerator and the screaming engine died down to a dull roar. "So, what's the deal with Brian?" She asked mock-innocently without taking her eyes off the road.

Willow looked over to the driver, shooting her a hateful glare. _'So she wants to play it like this,'_ Willow thought. "What do you mean?," the redhead responded sweetly.

The corner of Cordelia's lips twisted up into a smile. "I mean, well, he's like… totally lunchable. He could have any girl in this school. But then he goes and hangs out with you tweakos. What's up with that?"

"Afraid you finally have some competition?" Willow countered with a malicious grin of her own.

"From _you_? Don't make me laugh!" The brunette replied nastily. "Don't think that your sudden change in fashion sense makes you competition for me. Beneath the makeup and the clothes and… the admittedly sweet leather jacket, you're just the same mousy little bookworm you've always been." She turned to glance at the redhead, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "And the worst part is, you know as much as I do, that I get whatever… or _whomever_ I want. For your sake, better to just get out of my way, I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Willow bristled inwardly as her anger fought a war with her fears. Did she even have a chance in Hell with Brian? Was she still the shy little bookworm everyone walked all over? She knew she would never be as beautiful as Cordelia or any of the sheep that grazed in Sunnydale's hallowed halls. The only thing that she had over them was her intelligence. _'So use that to your advantage,'_ an inner voice called out to her, silencing the emotional turmoil that threatened to overwhelm her. _'Why would Cordelia even be concerned with me? If she's so sure of herself, then why bother telling me at all?'_ Willow reasoned with herself. The answer came in a flash. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

Cordelia jerked on the wheel so hard she nearly took out a wooden mail box planted near the street. The blood drew away from her face as she turned to face Willow. "Wh-wh-wha… What?"

The look of fear on Cordy's face nearly drew a physical sensation of pleasure for Willow. She had to admit she was just as shocked as Cordelia at the revelation. But the pieces fit. The taunting, the lies, the endless streams of humiliation she suffered at the other girl's hands for the last twelve years. There was a reason for all of it. "You really _are_ afraid of me?"

"I d-don't know wh-what you're talking about, you… you _nerd_." She was gripping the steering wheel so tightly now that the skin was pulled so taut over her knuckles that her tendons and bones were clearly outlined even in the moonlight.

Despite herself, Willow laughed out loud, earning a withering glare from Cordelia. But she didn't care anymore, any power the brunette might have lorded over her in the past was gone. But there was still a piece of the puzzle remaining. "Why? What could I possibly have that you don't or that your daddy wouldn't buy for you?"

If anything, the look of sheer terror only intensified, and Willow knew she was close. _'Just a little further,'_ she thought to herself. She searched her memory, digging for the clue that would fit. Then it hit her, like a freight train. "Xander!"

Her cry of amazement turned to one of fear as Cordelia lost control of her Stratus, clipping a series of aluminum garbage cans before she could right herself. The brakes squealed their protest as she brought the vehicle to a sudden halt. Cordelia sat still in shock for a long moment, and Willow wasn't completely certain if she was the cause of the near miss, or just Cordelia's lousy driving. Though she'd put her money on the former. "Co-Cordy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Just… shut up, Willow." Cordy said, sounding as bone weary as she felt. She slid the car into park and leaned her forehead against the wheel. Willow's sudden sense of superiority was quashed by the lost look on Cordy's face. "You don't understand, Willow. You can't understand."

Willow's brow wrinkled in confusion. She tentatively reached a hand out for Cordy's shoulder but stopped, worried that any sudden movement might just send the other girl running. "Understand what, Cordelia?" the redhead queried softly.

"Ever since… well, for as long as I can remember, my parents have given me anything I've ever wanted: clothes, dolls, toys, cars, vacations, anything with a price tag was mine for the taking."

Willow had no idea where this was heading, so she remained silent, allowing Cordelia to speak at her own pace, and giving her as much support as her silence would allow.

"Eventually, I guess I convinced myself that those things were all that mattered. But they don't. I see it everyday when I see you and Buffy and Xander in the halls. And it's not fair. All I ever wanted… _really wanted_… were the things I could never have… _real _friends, a family that loves me no matter who I'm dating or who my friends are, or how much money their parents have in their Swiss bank accounts. I'm not afraid of you, Willow. I'm _jealous_ of you. I see you in the halls, laughing with each other as if nothing in the world can touch you. But I know the truth, even when the world is falling down around your feet, you stay together.

"God, do you have any idea what would happen if I even showed a moment's weakness around Harmony or Aphrodisia or Blue?" Without waiting for a response from the other passenger in the car, she continued. "They'd be on me like a pack of sharks smelling blood in the water!" Tears were pooling in the corners of Cordelia's eyes now, and threatening to spill over.

"But, I thought they were your friends?" Willow replied innocently.

"_Friends!?!_" Cordelia nearly shouted, causing Willow to flinch involuntarily. Cordy threw her an apologetic look and continued in a more normal tone of voice. "Those vapid little sluts wouldn't know a friend if one came up and bit them on their surgically altered noses. Right now, I'd say you and I were closer than Harmony and I are. At least I can trust you. Truth be told, I can't stand them, but it's part of the game."

"Game?"

She nodded. "Being popular." Cordy clarified. "Daddy just won't be satisfied unless his 'princess' is the most popular girl in school and is dating the captain of the football team during the football season, the point guard during the basketball season, and the star wrestler during the spring." She chuckled dryly, but it was devoid of any humor. "Sometimes I feel like daddy is more like my pimp than my father. But he just _has_ to brag to his partners about his 'little princess' and score his little points in his own game."

Willow's jaw dropped noticeably. "My God, Cordy! That's horrible. Doesn't he even care about what you want?"

She shook her head sadly. "As long as he gets what he wants, no, he doesn't care what I do. I hate it. Sometimes, I even hate him."

"Why do you do it, then?" Willow replied.

In all her years, it was something Cordelia never even considered that an option. "I… don't know. For the longest time, I thought I was the one who knew what real life was supposed to be like, not this… two-dimensional charade I've been living in."

Willow leaned back against the beige leather bucket seat, absorbing all the information. All the time she envisioned Cordelia as spoiled and shallow. Turns out, she didn't really know her at all. "What are you going to do now?"

She shrugged and laid her head back on the wheel. "I don't know, Willow. How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

Cordelia raised her head up and pointed a slim finger in Willow's direction. "That. Be you. Be yourself. And still have Buffy and Xander and Brian for friends. I don't get it."

"Brian, Buffy and Xander are my friends _because_ I'm myself. Real friends like you for who you are. And Buffy likes you, well, most of the time. So does Brian. Xander and I like you, too, at least when you're not insulting us."

"Y-you _do_?," Cordelia replied. "Really? Why?"

"Because! Jeez, Cordy. When you're not acting like a spoiled brat, you're actually really nice. That's the part we like. Just wish you'd show it more." Willow answered evenly, showing the beginnings of a weak smile.

The brunette turned to face Willow, showing her a big and watery smile. "I promise. No more teasing. Well, maybe just you. Between you and me, I think Xander kind of gets off on it." The two girls laughed between sniffles and embraced warmly, throwing the bitter past out the window.

It was another ten minutes before Cordelia and Willow arrived at Brian's home. Brian and Xander were waiting rather impatiently, but trying to remain nonchalant by checking out Brian's Corvette. When Xander finally saw the glare of Cordelia's headlights, he nudged Brian with his elbow. Brian turned and they both heaved a sigh of relief. The red Stratus pulled up next to the Corvette in the wide driveway, and Willow was absorbed into a crushing embrace immediately upon exiting the passenger seat. "Where were you two?" Brian all but shouted at the girls. "Five more minutes, and Xander and I were ready to go look for you. I thought you were right behind us."

Cordelia blinked in surprise. Even Xander looked worried for her, and she didn't quite know how to handle that. "I'm… um, sorry. We were talking, and… I guess we just lost track of time."

Brian nodded, accepting the reasoning. "Oh, okay. Well, the pizzas are on the way. I ordered from the car. I got everything except anchovies and mushrooms. Xander told me you didn't like them."

Once again, Cordelia was at a loss. How did he remember she hated mushrooms and anchovies? The last time they had pizza together, they were seven and Cordelia's mother invited her entire second grade class. And Xander bought her a silver necklace with her name on the chain. She still had it in her jewelry box nine years later. "Uh, that's right. Thank you, Xander." Xander smiled and the darkness was able to contain his blush. Willow frowned, wondering about Xander's reaction, and trying unsuccessfully to suppress any feelings of jealousy. She frowned and walked away, a confused Brian in tow, leaving a suddenly shy Xander and an equally - and uncharacteristically - bashful Cordelia to follow in their wake.

The delivery man arrived a few minutes later, as the four were convincing Xander to do his homework. Xander seized the opportunity to launch himself at the door, grabbing the pies from a startled delivery guy. Smiling, Brian handed the guy two twenties, enough to play for the food and still leave a handsome tip. He set the pizzas on the dining room table, in between the piled books and notepads lying haphazardly about. Xander was the first to start to dig in, but Brian slapped at his hand. Xander growled in pain and surprise, and glared up at him. "Hey, what was that all about?"

"Let's let the ladies take the first pieces, please. There's plenty of food to go around, Xander." Brian reprimanded him. Brian pulled the box away from the other boy, presenting the box to Cordelia and Willow. "Didn't your parents ever teach you any manners?"

"None that we're aware of." Willow joked, nudging Xander playfully in the ribs. Cordy laughed, too, which only served to irritate Xander. By the time the pizza had been passed around, there were only two slices left. He grabbed both, pulling them protectively close to his body.

Brian smiled wryly at Xander's antics. "Xander, there's a whole other pizza on the counter. Relax." Brian turned back to the girls and focused on their Calculus assignment. Grudgingly, Xander cracked open his Calculus book, and began to read over the assignment. Life was so much easier when Willow would just let him copy off her homework. "Willow, uh… could you help me with my homework?"

"Sure, what's the problem?" Willow answered him cheerily.

Xander shrugged. "The homework."

He slid his notebook across the table and scooted his chair around to the other side. Willow took a look at his homework, and frowned. "What's wrong with it?"

Again, he shrugged. "I don't know. I just know it's wrong."

Dutifully, Willow turned back to his notebook and checked for more errors. After a long moment, she shrugged her shoulders, as well. "It looks fine to me, Xan. I don't know what you're so worried about."

Brian, who had gotten up to get his History book, interrupted Xander before he could respond. "Uh, guys. Sorry to interrupt. But I think we have company." He motioned out the main window. The other three launched themselves to the front window, the tops of their heads peeking out from the bottom of the sill.

"I count sixteen vamps, Brian." Willow offered after a moment. Xander cursed and nodded his agreement. The vamps were brazenly staying within the sightline of the street lamps. And whatever they were planning, they appeared to be in no hurry to accomplish it.

"But they can't come in, right?" Cordelia cried. "It's not like you invited them in, or anything? You _didn't_ invite them in, right?"

Brian shook his head. "Of course not, but they can still force us out!" He motioned with a finger to one of the lead vamps, carrying what looked to be a Molotov cocktail, a bottle of flammable liquid with a lit rag stuffed down the neck - a portable and easily made bomb. Without preamble, Brian ran nearly full speed to the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets seemingly at random.

"What's he doing?" Cordy asked Xander. Xander looked at her and shook his head.

A few moments later, Brian came back with a handful of items. Several large knives, a bottle of cooking oil, and a few rags that he dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Not saying a word, he left - this time for the garage. Fifteen seconds later, he was back with more supplies - a baseball bat, a hammer and a box of nails. "Willow, go to my desk and get the candle lighter." He caught her eye as she turned to go. "And get our swords."

Xander looked at Cordelia, mouthing the word _'our?'_ Willow hopped up and was gone in a flash. Brian busied himself by hammering the rags to the old Louisville Slugger that Conner had bought him on a business trip to Boston, not long after Brian fell off a pew in the church and broke his arm - complete with signed autographs of Dwight Evans and Jim Rice. "Sorry, guys. But this is important." Brian mumbled as he drove another nail through the now smudged autographs of the old Red Sox outfielders. He looked up suddenly, raising his voice. "Willow! In my closet! Get my crossbow!" He could hear her acknowledgment even as he returned to his hammering.

Willow returned, hopping down the last few stairs, and setting the weapons cases down next to Brian. Not seeking permission, she popped the clasps of the small sword case, finding the hint of cedar oddly comforting just now. She, too, heard Brian refer to the swords as 'our,' so she reached for the wakizashi and released the blade from its scabbard.

Brian reached for the crossbow, and loaded the weapon with casual ease. He pressed the weapon into Cordy's hands, and she accepted it like she had just stuck her hands in cow manure. He grabbed the bolt case and led the cheerleader kicking and screaming upstairs. The first room on the left was the master bedroom. He moved past the king-sized bed and the dark oak armoire and reached the bedroom window. Cordelia knelt by the window, as Brian lifted the latch and pulled the window open as wide as it would go. He turned back to the brunette, taking the weapon gently from her hands. He pointed to the trigger mechanism on the underside, noting the two independent triggers side by side. "Okay, Cordy. This is a Horton double crossbow, which means it can fire two bolts at a time. The right one is for the top, the left for the bottom. I have twenty-two more bolts in the case at your feet." He motioned with a finger to the leather case at her feet. "When you need to reload, put your feet in the stirrups at the front and pull the string back until it catches here. Then place the bolt in the slot like this." He pulled the topmost bolt out of the carrier, and slid it back into its groove. "Got it?"

Cordelia nodded absently. "I-I, uh… I don't know if I can do this."

"Sure you can. You'll do fine." He motioned her to look out the window at the vamps that were kicking over garbage cans, throwing rocks into windows and knocking over mailboxes all down the street. Already, he could hear babies crying and women screaming. He didn't have much more time. "Now, first things first. Anyone with those bottles lit are top priority. Got that? Take them out first. Aim for the center of their chest."

"What if I miss?" Cordy nearly screamed at him, panic beginning to overcome her. "I could hit you! Or Willow or Xander!"

"I trust you, Cordy. You'll be fine, I'm sure of it." He stood, but not before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and a kiss on her forehead. He got to the doorway, and smiled to her as he left, then he disappeared downstairs.

Downstairs, Willow and Xander were waiting rather impatiently. "What took you so long?" Willow asked him.

"Last minute instructions: don't shoot Xander. Took awhile before she finally agreed." Brian answered cheekily, and Xander threw him a sour look. Brian handed Xander a large Butcher's knife and the baseball bat. He could see Willow had already taken 'her' sword. "How come Willow gets a sword and I get a baseball bat?"

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Ummm, first come, first serve?" Xander nodded, then frowned. Brian saw where his train of thought was leading, and quickly derailed it. "Uh, that came out wrong."

Xander nodded, his eyes still narrowed at the other boy. "Yeah. You'd better hope so."

"Okay. Here's the plan: Xander you take Willow and your first priority is to put out any fires those cocktails might have started. Watch out, too. I told Cordy the bombers were her first priority. If any fires are started, find a garden hose and put them out quickly. Alcohol fires aren't that hot, but they can still ignite wood."

Xander held up his baseball bat and the knife. "What the Hell good are these gonna be against vamps?"

Brian sighed as he led them out to the front porch. With the candle lighter, he ignited the oily rags and the baseball bat turned into a flaming club. Xander immediately drew back and held the bat at a fair distance from him. "Okay, point made, Brian. But what about the knife, I can't exactly kill a vampire with a kitchen knife!"

Brian nodded his agreement. "You're right. But getting stabbed or slashed by one will still hurt them like Hell! I just need you two to keep the mass of them off my back while I take them out." Brian saw the look of fear written on their faces. "Oh, come on! Cordy is handling this. Why can't you? Please tell me you're not gonna chicken out on me, Xander!"

Xander stood a little straighter, his manhood insulted. "Of course not! It's just that Buffy…"

"_Buffy isn't here, dammit!_" Brian shouted, and both Willow and Xander stepped back in shock. "Okay, here's the deal: it's put up or shut up time, Xander. You said you wanted to help me, and now I _need_ your help! So what's gonna be? Now, I'm going out there, and I'll probably get killed when they surround me. And… aw, to Hell with it… I'll see you later. Or not."

With that, Brian hopped off the porch and towards the throng of undead, a hundred yards away. Willow looked up to her best friend, and saw the fear that was nearly choking him. She pursed her lips, then made her decision. With one last look of disappointment at her friend, she ran down the stone steps and into the melee.

Upstairs, Cordelia focused herself on the instructions she was given. _'Brian is depending on me. Willow is depending on me. _Xander_ is depending on me. I will _NOT_ let them down.'_ She set her eye along the butt of the crossbow and looked down the sight, looking for any vamps with bottles. It didn't take her very long. The were several of them with bottles in their hands. She set her sights on the closest one and squeezed the trigger. The bolt flew free, just as the butt of the crossbow slammed painfully back into her shoulder, and knocking her to the ground. The bolt flew true, though the aim was well off. Instead of hitting the heart of the vampire, it lodged itself a little lower.

A few feet lower, to be precise.

The vamp roared in pure agony, and he looked down to see the wooden shaft wedged into his groin. Not thinking, he reached down and grabbed at the wound, forgetting the homemade bomb in his hand. The bottle fell at his feet, exploding in a ball of red-orange flames that consumed the wounded vampire, as well as the female vampire next to him. The flames licked at their bodies and the burning liquid stuck to their clothes, setting them ablaze. Moments later the two erupted into ash as the liquid consumed itself on the asphalt.

Brian looked back to the window in surprise, nearly forgetting the mass of bloodsuckers in front of him. With a running head start, he leapt up, nearly eight feet in the air, coming down on the shoulders of two stunned vamps and catapulting him even higher in the air. He came down behind the line of vamps, dusting one before they could turn around. _'Three down, only thirteen to go,'_ Brian thought. _'Thanks, Cordy!'_

Willow ran along the front yards of her neighbor's desperate to find a garden hose to put out the fire one of the vamps started two doors down from Brian's house - the Edmonds house. In the dark, it was difficult to see anything. She cursed, wishing she had thought of a flashlight, but it was too late for that now. Then she remembered: the Walters' had a rose garden only a house away. She sprinted another fifty yards, reaching the rubber hose and twisted at the spigot. It felt rusted over, and the handle tore at her smooth palms. She cried out as much in pain as elation as the spigot finally gave. She spun the handle as far as it would go and she pulled at the hose, dragging it along the yard as far as it could go. She squeezed the trigger handle, and let the water spray across the base of the fire. Brian was right, the alcohol wasn't very hot, but she could see the fire beginning to combust the wood. So consumed by the task of putting out the fire, she failed to notice the vampire who sensed an easy kill. She turned as it growled low in its throat. She held up the wakizashi to defend herself, but it was knocked away easily. The clawed hands reached for her, grasping her soft, pale flesh and her last thoughts were not of her family, or of Xander, but of Brian. She closed her eyes and waited for the end. She heard the grunt and opened her eyes. Xander.

"Get the Hell off her, you freak!" Xander shouted and clubbed the vampire in the back of the head with the flaming baseball bat, knocking the vamp instantly unconscious. With a vicious smile, Xander set the vampire's denim jacket and blue jeans on fire and stepped away. Xander leaned down to the redhead and offered her a hand up. She accepted gratefully, coughing and rubbing at her throat. Xander grabbed the garden hose, while Willow reached for her fallen weapon, and quickly dispatched the remainder of the blue tinted fire. "Come on, Will. Brian needs our help!" He grasped onto her hand and pulled her down the street where the remainder of the fight still raged.

Cordelia cursed at herself and Brian. Herself for getting herself caught up in this and these wackos she seems to keep finding herself with. And Brian for not telling her to brace the crossbow against her shoulder. And it affected her aim considerably, despite the pain that she knew was the onset of a major bruise. Her second shot caught the shoulder of a vamp trying to sneak behind Brian. Brian heard the cry of pain, turned around and decapitated the vamp. She smiled at that. Now to reload. "At least he remembered to tell me how to do that," she grumbled to herself.

Brian turned around in time to dispatch the vamp that got behind him and slashed at its neck. The head lifted and exploded into a shower of particles, and the body dropped to the street and crumbled to ash. _'That's five for me.'_ He turned back to the three that were in front of him, offering a series of sweeps and slashes to keep them at a distance while Cordelia slowed them down.

Willow and Xander plowed through the mass, getting behind Brian. Brian turned his head, exhaling his relief at the sight of reinforcements. "You're late. What kept you?" Brian called out jauntily.

"Got held up in traffic." Willow replied with humor that didn't quite reach her eyes. A vamp that got close to her pulled its hand back with two fewer fingers than it started with. Willow, Xander and Brian formed a defensive circle, Xander keeping them at bay with his torch, which he could see was in the process of burning out. "Brian! My torch is almost gone. Got any other plans?"

"I'm working on it! I'm working on it!" The other boy shouted back, as he sliced through another vamp. Another bolt shot overhead, just missing Brian's ear, and catching a vamp in between the eyes. It dropped instantly, twitching a sickening, spasming dance on the ground. Brian tried his best to ignore it, and had to fight off the waves of revulsion it created. Another shot whistled down and caught a vamp fighting Xander. The shot imbedded itself between the vampire's shoulder blades and he erupted into a cloud of fine gray powder a half-second later. Xander looked up in surprise at Cordelia, who waved down to the young man, then leaned back to reload.

Xander waved back up to her, just as his torch died out. "Shit." He breathed. "Uh, Brian, the torch is gone."

Willow sighed audibly. She was sweating profusely, and the muscles in her arms were shaking with overexertion. "Okay, Brian. I don't know how much longer I can hold out, either." And the vampires were getting bolder, even though the numbers were more or less even. Only two to one now.

Brian felt the sweat stinging his eyes and knew if he didn't come up with something soon, they were all dead. "Fighting retreat, guys. We need to get back to the house." Another shot sailed by, catching a vamp in back of the thigh. Distracted, it never saw Xander crack the bat over its head. The bat broke down the grain, and Xander smiled as he realized something: He just made two stakes. He plunged the handle into the unconscious vamp, and spun around searching for any others that got too close.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Horton turned to the newly-risen Jessica, marveling at her ability to keep her human mask on so soon after rising. She was focused on the task at hand: the portable video camera one of their brethren had liberated from a local news crew. _'They wouldn't be needing it anymore, anyhow,'_ Horton thought with a smile. He gently touched the shoulder of his assistant, "I believe we have more than enough information to go on, my dear. Give them the signal."

Jessica brought the camera down, then set her fingers between her teeth, then whistled. Even Horton, who had heard it before and was prepared for it, was taken aback by the piercing wail that emanated from her lips. Dutifully, all the remaining vamps retreated into the shadows. Horton pulled his fingers from his ears and nodded in satisfaction. "Now for the _real_ fun!"

Brian sliced through the chest of another female vamp, when a piercing whistle cut the night. Immediately, the siege of vamps backed away and turned to run. He caught one before it could run, its shrieking death wail echoing down the now-silent street. Another took a bolt in the back before it could disappear into the shadows. He let out a breath, as did Willow and Xander.

"We won?" Xander asked for clarification.

Willow nodded. "We're still alive. I say that counts as a win in my book. Right, Brian?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." He replied, but he didn't sound the least bit convinced. _'This was too easy.' _He took a long look down the shadows, and shivered. _'They had us.'_


	6. Chapter Five

**__**

Chapter Five

'Every breath you take

Every move you make

Every bond you break

Every step you take

I'll be watching you'

The Police, 'Every Breath You Take'

****

C ordelia greeted the battered and sweaty group with dry towels and hugs as it limped its way back to Brian's house. Willow was still a little weak after nearly being strangled, and Xander took a couple of shots to his ribs as he rushed to save his redheaded friend. Not surprisingly, Brian was the least hurt, sustaining a fading bruise he received from a lucky kick to the head. The bruise stretched from his jaw line all the way up to his temple. If not for Cordelia's deadly aim with his crossbow, he was certain they would have overwhelmed him. Once the three made it inside, Cordelia led them to the couch, as the telltale sirens of the Sunnydale Police and Fire split the silence. Brian gave her directions to his first aid kit, underneath the bathroom sink.

"Brian, you were _amazing_!" Cordelia breathed as she banged a cold pack against the corner of the coffee table before handing it to him, then sat down heavily between Brian and Xander.

"So were you, Cordelia." Brian replied tiredly, wincing as he pressed the compress against his cheek. "So were you all."

Xander smiled and leaned against Cordelia, pulling the brunette in a one-armed hug. "Yeah, Cordy. You saved my life out there. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

Cordy blushed, then shrugged. "Don't know. Brian just told me where to shoot and I did. Though he forgot to tell me to brace it against my shoulder first. It's gonna leave one helluva bruise tomorrow, you know."

Brian winced. "Ummm… oops?"

"Oops?" Cordelia repeated sarcastically, rubbing at the tender spot on her shoulder. "Oops is right."

"I'm sorry, really. I was in a bit of a hurry. Tomorrow after school, if you want, I can show you how to use it right."

"Sounds like fun, Brian. It's a _date_, then." Cordy turned to Willow who was sitting next to Brian and flashed her a superior grin, while Xander rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Willow stood up quickly, her icy stare never leaving her "friend." The red head grasped Brian's hand on her way up. "I'm feeling a little thirsty, Brian. Wanna help me find something to drink?"

Brian shrugged. "There's water, milk and apple juice in the refrigerator, Willow. Help yourself."

Willow glared at him, squeezing his hand in hers. "Well, then, why don't you help me find a glass, then?"

"OW!" Brian grunted, then realized he was in trouble. "Oh! Oh, sure. Glasses. Don't need to drink out of the container. Nope, we're _civilized_ people here! And civilized people… like _us_… use glasses. Yep, we sure do. Don't we, Willow? Excuse me, guys." He stood quickly and was nearly pulled into the kitchen.

Willow spun on her heel mid-stride, catching Brian off balance. He plowed forward and nearly sent Willow to the linoleum floor. She staggered back for a moment, her arms flailing at her sides before Brian pulled her to him. More startled than angry, Willow took a half-step back, searching his eyes. "So, you and Cordy are _dating_ now?" Willow growled, trying to keep her voice low enough that she wouldn't be overheard.

Brian blinked at her in confusion. "Willow, what are you talking about?"

"_Sounds like fun, Brian. It's a date, then._" Willow mimicked Cordelia in a high pitched and nasally falsetto, continuing to mock the other girl with over-animated gestures.

Brian sighed hard, rolling his eyes at the smaller girl. "I can't believe you're jealous, Willow."

Willow responded with a sour face. "I am _not_ jealous of that… that…"

"Uh-huh, if you're so _not_ jealous, then why are you acting like this?" Brian replied slowly, but Willow could sense his patience waning.

The redhead paused a moment in her frustration, allowing herself to take a calming breath then exhaled. "This is how it starts with her, Brian. She sees something I like, then suddenly, she has to take it away."

"And I have no say about it?" He answered her.

"Well, you're the one _'dating'_ her." Willow whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah. Such a big date. Teaching her how to properly utilize a Horton double crossbow." He made a face at her. "Just imagine the romantic possibilities."

"I'm sure Cordelia Chase could find a way…"

"What, with you sitting right next to me?" Brian countered evenly, the beginnings of a smirk twisting the corners of his lips. "I seriously doubt she's _that_ good."

Willow stepped back, confusion evident on her face. "Huh?"

"What? You thought she was going to be the only one there? Aren't you going to be there? Or Xander? Or Buffy?"

A small smile began to creep over Willow's face. "You mean… you're not interested in Cordelia?"

"Willow," Brian chuckled. "She's a friend. That's all. I barely know her!"

Willow shrugged. "Yeah, but you've only known me for a few days, too."

"True. But you're different. You're special to me."

"I am?" Willow replied, a happier tone entering her voice.

Brian pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Of course you are. Please don't ever think otherwise, okay?"

Willow snuggled her head against the crook between his shoulder and chest, pulling her arms tighter around him. "Okay." She mumbled into the warmth of his body.

Cordelia frowned to herself as she realized what she had done. She retreated back in her old 'bitch mode' when the conversation got too intimate. She hated herself for hurting Willow, especially when she didn't really feel that way for Brian at all. He felt more like an older brother to her than anything else. She just hoped Willow would give her enough time to apologize before slapping the crap out of her. The brunette sighed audibly, rubbing tired eyes and leaning against the supple leather sofa. She stifled a yawn and snuggled deeper into the warmth it provided, not realizing she was sinking deeper into Xander's chest. She gave into the yawn, luxuriating in the comfort she felt. She took a breath and her eyes shot open.

Xander!

Her head shot up and her eyes locked on to his. Xander sat stock still in his seat, fearful that any movement would send her running like a startled deer. Cordelia pulled away slowly, the blood drawn away from her face, leaving her looking pale as a ghost. She tried to speak several times, but couldn't manage much more than opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. Inside her mind, Cordelia was spinning with questions that she had no answers to. _'What was it about him that always caused this kind of reaction in me, ever since we first met on our first day of kindergarten? Is this what Willow feels like when she's around Brian? Does Xander feel the same way about me? That too-hot-to-touch-but-I'm-too-cold-to-stay-away kind of feeling? Why won't he just kiss me already?'_

Xander's mind was jumbled with a flood of almost the exact same questions and feelings. _'God, she is so beautiful! Does she know how I feel about her? How can I feel this way about her, after the way she always treated Jesse, Willow and me? I wonder if Cordelia even feels the same way? How would Willow and Buffy react if I told them I liked Cordy? They'd laugh in my face. Or worse, hate me forever. I just want to kiss her so bad. Ha! Cordy would knock me into the middle of next week if I even tried. It would be so much easier if she just kissed me, instead.'_ He shut his eyes tight and sighed tiredly, wishing the dizzying feelings that threatened to overwhelm him would just go away. When he opened his eyes, he could see the look on her face. She looked so… lost. And it surprised him to realize it hurt him to see her that way. No longer caring about their adversarial past and the judging looks he knew he would get from Willow or Buffy and possibly Giles, he leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you gonna be okay, Cordy?"

She seemed confused by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you looked kinda upset." He replied cautiously, fearful of her wrath should she take things he said the wrong way.

She shook her head. "I'm okay, I think, Xander." She responded. "I'm still freaking a little about being in that fight, but I'm handling it." She took a long look towards the kitchen.

"I don't think you're gonna break them up, Cordy. I've seen the signs. They fit together, sorta like Buffy and Angel. I guess we'll just have to learn to accept it." Xander offered her.

"Why would I want to break them up? I think they're cute together."

"But, I thought-"

Cordy shrugged. "I don't know what I was thinking. And now, I bet Willow's gonna be royally pissed at me." She sighed, and stared down at her hands. "I was just thinking how lucky she is, and that I wished I would find somebody like that."

Xander smiled wryly, but said nothing.

Cordelia took a deep breath, smiling at Xander, then leaned against Xander's shoulder and closed her eyes. She could feel him tense almost immediately, and for a moment, was certain she had made a horrible mistake. When she felt him relax and pull his arm around her shoulder, she smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?," Xander asked.

She shrugged against him. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Talking with Willow earlier made me see how much of a lie I was living. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

The only response she got was a comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders. They were asleep almost immediately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A large bank of top-of-the line computers sat along the dryest wall in the underground lair. Pentium III's, James had informed him. State-of-the-art machines that will revolutionize his rule over the world, come the day. The Master looked on, folding his arms over his chest, trying his best not to look too confused. It had been over sixty years since he had stepped out into the world. Back in his day, _his_ world was filled with such novelties as the horse-drawn carriage and kerosene lamps. Now the world never slept, the "Information Age" as James put it. And he was filled with mortal dread for it. So much to learn, and so little time. Has time passed him by? Will he be able to not just survive, but thrive in this new era? Bah! He shook off the hesitation and fear, reminding himself he is the Master and all will bow before his will. Or be crushed beneath his heel.

His other childe, Jessica, was engrossed in a digital string of number sequences that flew by at such speed that he had trouble just recognizing the characters, let alone understanding their meaning. But he put his trust and his faith in his 'daughter.' She would not let him down. But curiosity got the better of him, in the end. "What are you doing, my dear?"

Without turning her head to address him, she called back over her shoulder. "James had many accounts linked to the Council of Watchers. I'm just seeing that it doesn't go to waste."

Money, he sighed. It does make the world go 'round, he realized. A hundred years ago, it was all about the blood. Fifty years ago, even. Again the stab of fear reached his black heart. Was he truly becoming a dinosaur? Just a best forgotten example of a long forgotten age? He ground his fangs in frustration. Never! He is Heinrich Joseph Nest, childe of Aurelius, himself! He was destined to rule! But, try as he might, the niggling thought refused to die. He turned to a fledgling, and roared. "Bring me something to eat! Someone young!" The fledgling's eyes widened, and he bolted out of the door without question. He turned back to the series of screens, allowing himself a calming breath, despite the long atrophied lungs within his chest. He studied the monitor next to his childe. It showed a series of status bars and meters. "And this?"

"This," Jessica smiled ferally. "Is a surprise, my Master."

His anger dissipated instantly. "Oh, ho! A surprise? Do I get a hint, my child?"

"Good things come to those who wait, Master." James' voice echoed from the doorway. He turned to Jessica who was still focused on the computer terminal. He leaned over her shoulder, smelling her sweet fragrance, as well as the remains of a recent kill. He smiled and licked at her ear lobe, earning a shudder from the female vampire. "How much longer, Jess?"

"Just a few more minutes." She replied throatily, turning her head and kissing James deeply.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Brian and Willow returned to the living room a few minutes later to find Xander and Cordelia spooned up together on Brian's couch. Brian smiled, knowing how exhaustive physically and mentally a fight like that could be. So he made no movement to try to wake them. He turned to gauge Willow's reaction, and he wasn't disappointed. Emotions fought a tug-of-war across her features: anger, fear, jealousy, happiness and pain. She nearly dropped the glass of apple juice she had brought back with her from the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Willow?" Brian asked cautiously.

Willow nodded absently and returned to her homework, but Brian wasn't convinced and told her so. "Why wouldn't I be?," she replied, a hint of anger seeping into her voice.

Brian began to challenge her statement, but thought better of it, and sat down next to her and began to flip through his American History book. Every few seconds, his attention would be drawn away when Willow would sigh melodramatically. He would look up just in time to see Willow turn back to her book. After three attempts, Brian finally broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The red haired teenager looked up. "Talk about what?"

Brian scowled for a moment, letting his irritation get the better of him for a moment. "Well, either Cordelia has done something to upset you… again, or you've sprung a slow leak."

She glared at him sharply, but was unable to keep the grin off her face. She turned to glance at the sleeping couple on the sofa. "It's just that they… aren't supposed to be together. It's not fair!" She realized only a moment too late what she said. She turned and saw the pain reflected in his eyes.

"So, you'd rather be with Xander." It was a statement, not a question. He nodded absently. "I understand. Well, I won't stand in your way, Willow."

Willow squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently. "No! Brian, I didn't mean it. Really. It's just that I've loved Xander all my life. Sometimes I feel like he's the other half of me."

"I can't compete with that, Willow. And I'm not sure I'd even want to try." He leaned forward, not wanting to wake either Xander or Cordelia. "If you and Xander are meant to be together, it would be wrong for me to stand in your way. I just want you to be happy."

"I don't know what I want, Brian. All I know is that I'm happy with you now. Isn't that enough?" Willow replied, on the verge of tears. Brian nodded, forcing down the ever-increasing lump in his throat, and wondering why a girl he only met a few days ago was having this much of an effect on him.

"Willow?" A voice echoed from the doorway to the living room. Xander was standing there, pale as a ghost, with a shocked Cordelia leaning against his shoulder. "You… _love_ me?" Xander could barely believe his ears. Willow was in love with him. Since when? And why did he just find out now? He turned to catch the eyes of Brian and Cordelia. Brian looked… resigned. He wasn't stupid, he probably saw it from the beginning. _'No wonder he never hit me back, it would've ruined any chance he had with Willow.'_ Cordelia looked, well she looked hurt by it. Upset, really, and not bothering to hide it. Her eyes were puffy and reddening and she sniffled once before turning away. _'Am I really dense? Because this is making no sense at all.'_ He opened his mouth to speak when Willow bolted past him heading for the front door. The heavy oak door slamming behind her as she headed out into the night.

Brian started to get up, but was stopped by Xander. "I'll get her, Brian. You guys stay here." He never saw the sour looks that Brian and Cordelia gave him behind his back.

Willow made it back to her front door, alternating between panting and sobbing. Her emotions couldn't decide between humiliation or anguish. Since it couldn't decide, it came upon a compromise, seemingly doubling the pain it caused. Xander heard her! She would never be able to look him in the eye again. Or Brian. _'Oh, God! Brian! How could I hurt him like that. What was I thinking?'_

Hot trails of salty tears stung her eyes and made her vision blurry. She got as far as her front door, when Xander finally caught up with her. "We need to talk, Willow."


	7. Chapter Six

**__**

Chapter Six

__

'You say

Love is a temple

Love a higher law

Love is a temple

Love the higher law

You ask me to enter

But then you make me crawl

And I can't be holding on

To what you got

When all you got is hurt'

U2, 'One'

****

The Master stretched out in satisfaction in one of the reclining office chairs next to Jessica. His meal had been especially sweet, it wasn't often that you could find a virgin anymore. He licked at his pale lips and waited contentedly as the timers on Jessica's computers slowly and deliberately counted down to zero, ticking a sharpened fingernail against the metal table in time with the steady countdown. He considered the amazingly comfortable chair he was relaxing in and made a mental note to have a new one installed in his chambers. This one was so much more comfortable than his high backed wooden throne.

His childe swept her delicate fingers over the keyboard with precision and grace, and the Master felt a swell of pride in creating her, even if he had no idea what she was doing. Whatever she was doing, she was obviously doing it well. The clocks counting down on the monitors finally reached zero and the monitors changed immediately into frames of the battle just previously fought above, from several different angles. James looked over from his seat on the other side of Jessica, and smiled wickedly. "Surprise, Master."

He smiled and clapped. "Wonderful, my dear. But what is it?"

She laughed, a gentle tinkling that belied her demonic visage. "It's-"

"A three-dimensional representation of the fight with the Herald, Master." James interrupted her, a wicked gleam in his yellowed eye.

"The Herald?" The Master exclaimed. "The Herald of the End Times?!" A slow sinister grin spread across his features. Oh, the possibilities he could only begin to imagine with the Herald by his side! "Are you certain?"

James studied the images for a long moment, before he turned to his sire and nodded. "I have been searching for this boy," He spat the word, making his opinion of the Herald well known. "He is the Chosen One. I am certain of it." His facial structure morphed to reflect his demonic nature. "And I will have his head."

The Master considered that for a moment, but felt the rise of greater ambition stir within him. The Herald, by his side, would all but ensure the world at his fingertips. He glanced over to his children, engrossed in studying the images, searching for weaknesses in the young man's form. Weaknesses to exploit, for the purpose of destroying him. A cold fear roiled in the pit of the Master's belly! No, he could not permit this! The Herald must be his, to shape into his most trusted ally and lieutenant… and his heir. He would be his greatest childe! He stared long and hard at his children, then glancing at the pale warrior on the screen cleaving his way through a wall of minions, and a thought came to him. _'And behold, a pale horse, and he who sat on it, his name was Death. Hades followed with him. Authority over one fourth of the earth, to kill with the sword, with famine, with death, and by the wild animals of the earth was given to him.'_

He studied the images with a near-obsessive intent now, marvelling at his grace, his cunning and his power, so curious yet so apparent for one so young. The numbers seemed overwhelming, and yet he endured with grim determination. And the Master felt a swell of pride in his enemy, so soon to be friend. Two other humans quickly fell into line alongside the Herald, fighting with an intensity that again piqued the curiosity of the venerable Master. He pointed with a clawed finger to the new additions, and questioned James and Jessica. "And those two are?"

James frowned at the screen, considering how much he dared reveal. "Well, my Lord, it is possible they are the Four."

"The Four? I count only three, James."

A bolt shot from the darkness and a vampire erupted into a shower of fine gray ash. The Master held up a hand to stay any further remark, noting the amused smile on Jessica's face. _'And behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow. A crown was given to him, and he came forth conquering, and to conquer.'_

A lithe redhead stood back-to-back with the Herald, waving her sword with a great deal less proficiency and elegance, but with no less fervor. A minion, foolish enough to dare test her tenacity, came away missing several fingers as the third, a dark haired youth, held his assailant at bay with a flaming torch. _'Another came forth, a red horse. To him who sat on it was given power to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another. There was given to him a great sword.'_

"The Four." The Master breathed, with no doubt in his mind or heart. "The Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse. Bring them to me, my children. Find them, and bring them here." Oh, what fearsome servants they would make, indeed! _'The kings of the earth, the princes, the commanding officers, the rich, the strong, and every slave and free person, hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains. They told the mountains and the rocks, "Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb, for the great day of his wrath has come; and who is able to stand?"'_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cordelia sat down heavily in the dining room chair, looking at the History book, but not really seeing it. In fact, she had read the same paragraph six times before she finally gave up with an exasperated sigh. She looked up to see Brian with a similar expression on his face. "You love her, don't you?" She asked quietly. It came out as a question, but she already knew the answer.

Brian looked up sharply, "I barely know her."

Cordy shrugged and waved his excuse away. "Doesn't matter. I've seen the way you look at her, and it's the same way she looks at you. She'll be back."

It brought a small smile to his lips. "You think so?"

She nodded, letting a happy smile light her face. "I know so. I've known Willow all my life. I know she's had this thing for Xander, following him around like a little puppy dog ever since they were in kindergarten. But that's all it is, puppy love." Seeing how comforting it wasn't, she hastened to continue. "Xander doesn't think of her that way. If he did, I think he would have acted on it by now."

That brought out a real smile from Brian. "How long have you been in love with Xander?"

Cordelia blushed, and lowered her head. "Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe the others are too close to see it. But when you saw Xander this morning in the hallway, I noticed you focused on him, even when you were talking to Willow." She leaned in close enough to smell her perfume. "But, if it helps, I think the feelings are mutual."

The look she gave him was priceless. Her eyes sparkled with joy and it seemed as if her face took on a more radiant glow. And her smile seemed to light up the room they were in, not to mention the kitchen and living room. "Really? You think so?"

Brian smiled widely and nodded. "I know so."

Cordelia realized just how much she let slip, and blushed fiercly. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

His smile faltered. "Huh? I don't understand."

She shrugged her shoulders, all traces of happiness erased in a moment of clarity. "It can never happen, Brian. Xander and I are just from two different worlds. My friends… my father would never accept us."

Brian shook his head in confusion. "I'm still not understanding you."

She sighed and piched at the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Xander is a loser, Brian. With a capital 'L.' If I tried to show him off to my friends or to my daddy, well… let's just say it wouldn't be pretty."

"What difference does it make who you date?" Brian asked honestly. "I would think your friends and your family would be happy that you were happy, right?"

The brunette looked at him wide-eyed for a moment before bursting out in laughter. "You obviously don't know Harmony Kendall. I'd be ostracized before the Homeroom bell rang."

Brian didn't share in the amusement. "If that's how she treats her friends, I don't think I would want to know her. Sounds like she is materialistic and self-absorbed."

"Oh, you have no idea." Cordelia responded, trying to recover from her giggling fit. "If it isn't currently 'to die for,' she doesn't want it."

"Then why do you want it?" Brian questioned.

The giggling died immediately like it was shut off with a switch. "You sound like Willow."

"You didn't answer my question." Brian commented off-handedly.

She blew out an agitated breath. This conversation was getting out of hand, she had to put a stop it, before too many things were revealed. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

The Herald shrugged. "Because I think you're dying to tell someone how you really feel without worrying about whether or not they'll judge you or mock you. You're my friend, Cordelia. Or, at least I'd like you to be, if you'll let me."

"You sound like my therapist," Cordelia mumbled, sotto voce. She looked up at him. "The truth is… I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember, Brian. All my life, I think sometimes. I know he dresses like an idiot and acts like a spaz, but I love him anyway. I love him because of it, maybe."

"And that's why you argue with him?" Brian asked. At her look, he continued. "I think they call it the 'thin line between love and hate.' When you love someone, but you can't be with 'em, you eventually start to hate 'em. Right?"

Her jaw dropped a fraction in astonishment. It took her a moment to regain her before she could nod. "How did you know?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Willow looked up in time to see Xander huffing and puffing as he sprinted across the lawn to catch her. She tried her best to slip the key into the lock before he could close the distance between them, but the tears in her eyes made her vision blurry. She fumbled with the key for a moment, then gave up with a sigh and fell to the doorstep and resumed her crying. In a fit of frustration, she hurled her housekeys into the front lawn, watching as they skittered along the dewy surface, kicking up water splashes in its wake.

Xander tracked the flat arc of the skipping keys for a moment, and allowed himself a few seconds to recover his breath. "Hey, Wills. Just heard the craziest rumor." When his childhood friend made no response other than to sob even harder into her hands, he sat down on the cool stone steps, and wrapped his arms around her shivering and shaking form.

"Xander," Willow began brokenly. "I am so sorry. I never meant for you to know." She hiccupped a few times as she struggled to regain her composure. God, she'd never be able to face Brian or Cordelia after this! "This wasn't supposed to happen this way. It wasn't supposed to happen at all!"

Xander shook his head softly and placed a finger to her lips. Seeing her like this made all his feelings for her bubble to the surface. Loyalty, friendship, trust… and love. Until this moment, Xander never considered Willow as anything but his 'bud.' But now, as he looked at her, despite the mascara creating blackened tears tracking down her pale cheeks, she was beautiful. Did he love her? Hell, yes! Without question. Loving her was as easy for him as breathing. He would die for her in a heartbeat, but he had to be honest with her, with himself. As much as he wanted to, he did not feel the same way about her. "Willow, I… don't… er… quite know how to react to this. You love me? Are you sure?"

Willow moaned desperately into her palms. "No, I'm not sure, Xander! I don't know _what_ I want!" She looked up at him, her eyes red and wild from her crying jag. "I mean, I was in love with you for years, you big jerk! But did you ever notice? No! Of course not! Your hormones tracked any girl in a skirt… _except me_! Then Buffy came to town, and then of course you nearly trip over your own tongue trying to get her to go out with you. When, all along, I was right here waiting for you to notice me. _Me!_"

She pounded her balled up fists against his chest, surprising Xander with the strength behind them. In self-defense, he grabbed at her wrists, pinning them to him. "You think I didn't know you were there? What, you think I'm really that stupid?" He roared, causing the redhead to flinch involuntarily.

"No," Willow whisped, and hung her head. "I think you must think I'm ugly."

His jaw dropped. "_What?!_ Is that what you think? You really think so little of me?"

Willow shrugged imperceptibly and whispered. "No, I think you think that little of me."

"Jesus, Willow! You know, for someone so smart… you really can act stupid." He spat angrily, watching as her eyes narrowed to slits. "Have you seen my track record with relationships? Hmmm, let's count back: you and me, lasted about one day. Then there was a rebound period that lasted about eleven years before I dated an older woman who wasn't really a woman at all. And she wanted to eat me after having sex."

"We broke up because you killed my Barbie." Willow replied, feeling a touch of a smile at that distant memory.

"I destroy _everything_ I touch, Willow. Pure and simple. And I won't risk losing you." He held her face in his hands. "I can't. Willow, you are the only thing in this stupid, pathetic life of mine that has any meaning to me. If I lost that..." He trailed off, allowing her to let her imagination fill in the blanks. "I could lose Buffy. Or Giles. It would hurt, but I'd survive. But not if I lost you, Willow. You are my best friend, my sister, and my soul mate. I can't afford to risk anything else with you. I love you _that_ much."

"All this time, you always knew how I felt. Why didn't you ever say anything?" She sighed, feeling a little better, having lifted an immense weight off her chest. She finally told him, and it felt really good. And she knew now what her heart was telling her. 

He shrugged. "Would it have helped? Really? I never wanted to hurt you, Willow. I never wanted to lead you on, or make you think there could ever be anthing other than this."

"But doing that is exactly what hurt me, Xander," she cried. "Do you have any idea how it hurt me when you asked me to rehearse you asking Buffy out? Or how ugly and worthless it made me feel? Do you?"

Xander swallowed audibly. "Willow… God, I am _so_ sorry. I never meant… it's just… God, Willow! I have never thought you were ugly or worthless! Never. God, you're so beautiful and smart… and funny. Brian is so lucky to be with you. I could never be good enough to deserve you." He felt a familiar fire building inside him, trying with all he had to clamp it down before he made a mistake he could never undo.

"Don't talk like that! You're plenty good! You're smart - even if you don't think so, you're brave and loyal and funny and you have the sweetest smile I have ever seen." She reached up and touched at his pale pink lips with her fingertips, feeling a turbulent swell of forbidden passion churning within her belly. She leaned forward, closing her eyes, letting herself fall into the moment. She knew it was wrong, but the feelings were so powerful and she wasn't sure she could stop herself.

"This is wrong, Will. I don't want to hurt you." Xander breathed, his eyelids getting heavier.

She nodded, but her head dipped further nonetheless. "Yes, so wrong."

"Oh, well isn't _this_ just precious." A cold voice declared from behind them, just before their lips made contact.

The two would-be lovers sprung back as if stuck by an electrical wire, blushing furiously and certain in was Brian and Cordelia come to find them. The turned as one, meeting the feral red-amber eyes of a vampire. Before they could cry out, his minions appeared from behind him and pinned Willow's and Xander's arms behind them. Xander fought against his captors as they grabbed at his wrists, squirming against kicking a chunk of loose packed earth at Horton's charcoal gray Armani suit.

The vampire childe brushed at the muddy remains on his jacket and pants fuming that that miserable wretch ruined his finely tailored suit. He bent down and caressed the boy by his chin, barely repressing the urge to sink his fangs into Xander's tender flesh and rip his throat out. "Consider yourself fortunate the Master wants you alive. So quit fidgeting, boy, before I snap the little girl's neck. Understand?"

Xander's eyes widened, and he immediately ceased his struggle and went slack in the arms of his captors. "You hurt even one hair on her, and I swear I will kill you!" The dark-haired young man threatened.

"Yes, yes. You were quite frightening there, boy." Horton replied contemptuously and rolled his eyes, using a hand to cover his mouth to stifle a yawn. "Unfortunately for you, time is of the essence." He nodded once to the minions, and they responded quickly with punches to the backs of their prisoner's heads, knocking them instantly unconscious.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cordy smiled to herself, as Brian busied himself with the clean-up of tonight's spur-of-the-moment study session. They only talked for a few minutes, though it felt infinitely longer. It infinitely more personal than she would have liked. What surprised her most was Brian's reaction. Or, more accurately, his lack of reaction. The icy ball of anxiety that was growing within her belly at the thought of revealing her true feelings was overwhelming. She barely knew him, what made her think she could trust him. She didn't trust _anyone_ with that knowledge, she barely trusted herself with it. But he just smiled and told her he already knew. _He knew?!?_ Was she that transparent? Did this mean Xander and Willow knew, and were just toying with her emotions? _'No,'_ she shook her head quickly. _'They wouldn't do that. They aren't the kind of people that would do that. They're my… friends.'_ Her smile faded as the truth hit her. Hard. _'They're my friends. They are my friends. They. Are. My. Friends.'_

"Oh, my God." Cordy breathed in realization. But rather than shocking her, it gave her a warm feeling of contentment.

"What?" Brian appeared from the other room.

She smiled shyly and shrugged. "I think it's all just hitting me now. I wasted a lot of time in my life thinking being beautiful and popular would lead to happiness, when it was right under my nose all along." Brian said nothing. He just smiled at her warmly, and returned to his chores in the kitchen.

A few minutes passed, before Brian heard Cordelia call out for him. He wiped his wet hands off with a dishrag and left the few remaining dishes in the sink. "Yes, Cordy?" He noticed she was staring out the living room window, and occasionally noting the time on the wall clock.

"They've been gone for a long time." She commented idly.

Brian paused. "Well, I'm sure they had a lot to discuss. She had feelings for him for years. It's not something you can just get over in a five minute discussion, you know."

She turned to face him, pinning the Herald with her stare. "Believe me, I know."

"Right. Sorry."

She glanced again at the wall clock, then compared it with the time on her wristwatch. "The only thing is: it hasn't been five minutes, it's been thirty-five. And they're not on Willow's front steps anymore."

"You were spying on them?" Brian asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, yeah." Cordelia replied sarcastically. "In case you've forgotten, this is Sunnydale! Home of the Boogeyman and all the other Things That Go Bump In The Night. And, in case it slipped your mind, there were about two dozen of those Bumps trying to burn down the neighborhood only a couple of hours ago. Call me paranoid, but I think in this case, my voyeurism may be justified!"

Brian took a step back, holding up his hands placatingly. "You're right, Cordelia. I was just surprised, that's all."

Cordy blew out an agitated breath. "The problem is that they left the porch, but the lights aren't on."

That piqued his curiousity. There were a two reasons Willow's lights weren't on: they weren't there anymore, or they _were_ there, but didn't want to be disturbed. Brian frowned, knowing the latter was incredibly unlikely. "How long have they been 'gone?'"

"About ten minutes, maybe?"

Not good. If they were on their way back, they certainly would have been here by now. Brian scooped up his leather jacket and his sword, then handed Cordelia the crossbow. "It's probably nothing." Brian tried to assure her, but he could tell she wasn't buying. Truth was, neither was he. Warning sirens were sounding off in his brain, urging him to move faster. "But we should check it out. Better safe than sorry. And, like you said, this _is_ Sunnydale."


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
'I sit looking 'round  
  
I look at my face in the mirror  
  
I know I'm worth nothing without you  
  
And like one and one don't make two  
  
One and one make one  
  
And I'm looking for that free ride to me  
  
I'm looking for you  
I'd gladly lose me to find you  
  
I'd gladly give up all I got  
  
To catch you I'm gonna run and never stop.'  
  
The Who, 'Bargain'  
Cordelia grunted and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, this was quickly becoming tiresome as she watched her breath form a silvery halo around her head.. The temperature was dropping quickly as the midnight hour approached, and her arms were tired from holding Brian's heavy-duty flashlight while he scanned the ground for clues to their likely destination. After knocking on the door for a good five minutes, they agreed they were not inside, and neither of them was certain if they were happy of that fact. As they left, Cordelia spotted a glint of metal in the front yard, finding Willow's lost keys. Obviously, Willow would not have left without them, so it must be a clue that they were forcibly taken away, filling Brian and Cordy with a deeper chill than the night air. Further examination showed several footprints in the wet grass or dug into the mud leading off to the west. Neither of the two had any skill whatsoever in discerning what shoes were whose, but there were definitely more than one pair of sneakers and one pair of heeled boots making indentations in the mud.  
  
"This is getting us nowhere!" Cordelia cried, fatigue and panic beginning to set in. She was tired, cold, sore, scared and very, very angry. And worst of all, she finally knew what she wanted, and again he was just out of her reach. Someone was going to pay. And the price was going to be steep.  
  
Brian sighed and nodded, tiredly wiping at his eyes. He stood, grateful to whatever blessing or curse that provided him with some degree of accelerated healing. Already, the tired and aching muscles of his arms, shoulders and upper back were regaining some vigor, and the deep bruising across the whole left side of his face was beginning to stop its burning and dizzying throbbing. A staccato beat pounding deep within his eardrum that was threatening to drive him mad. He hefted his sword, and concealed it within the opening of his black leather blazer. Without a single word, he walked past the brunette and headed across the street, back to his house. Cordelia huffed in irritation, but followed him back into the house.  
By the time Cordy had caught up with Brian, he was already in the living room dialing numbers as he read them off a sheet of paper. She sat down heavily on the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table. It was doing nothing for her fatigue. If anything, doing nothing just made her more tense and irritable. She had to find Xander. Now.  
  
"Mr. Giles? This is Brian. I am sorry to be calling you this late, but Willow and Xander are missing..." Brian spoke into the receiver, feeling restless and more ill-tempered by the moment. "I need your help."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Xander's senses returned gradually, noting first in his groggy state the rancid cloying stench filling the air. 'Probably the remains of... well, something dead,' Xander thought, fighting down a wave of revulsion. He couldn't be absolutely certain of what, though. His next thought was to ask himself where he was and how he got there. Memories came flooding back to him, and he clutched at his head in to allow his body to catch up with the rest of him. "Willow?" He called out weakly in the faint pale lighting, wincing as even the sound of his own whisper sent a sharp lance of pain arcing through his brain.  
  
A single dying torch was all the illumination that was provided in what appeared to be a small prison cell, the room no bigger than his bedroom at home. Heavy looking iron chains hung from bolts into the stone wall. And judging from the dust and cobwebs in and around the chains, they'd been unused there for years, possibly even decades. 'This can't be good.'  
  
He scanned the dimly lit cell, immediately noticing the slumped form in the far corner of the room. Even in the darkness, Xander instinctively knew who it was. "Willow!"  
  
Xander scrambled over on his hands and knees, as fast as he could and not pass out from the sharp spikes digging into his brain or the vertigo sensation he received for moving at all. "Willow!" Xander cried, ignoring the protests his body gave him. He reached over and shook her shoulder, hoping to rouse the unconscious girl. "Willow? Come on, wake up."  
  
It was a long moment that felt like a month before the red head began to move of her own accord. "Brian?" She called out to the darkness, and Xander felt an icy stab to his heart as he realized for the final time where her heart truly lie. 'So fast,' he thought sadly. 'I never had a chance, I guess.' Then he gave his thought a little more attention and mentally berated himself. 'Ah, who are you kidding really, Xander? You had ten years to act.'  
  
"No, Will. It's Xander. Come on, wake up, Will." He cried. "We need to find a way out of here!"  
  
She looked up suddenly and Xander noticed a large gash across her hairline. It was seeping steadily down her nose and across her cheek. He paled for a moment before tearing off a strip for his shirt tail and daubing at the wound. It probably wasn't the least bit sanitary, but there was nothing else available.  
  
"What happened?" She mumbled, still fighting off the cobwebs. "Where are we?"  
  
"I don't know, Will. We were talking and those vamps caught us by surprise. I guess they knocked us out and locked us up here." He took another long look around their filthy little cell. "Wherever here is."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
He didn't know why he continued to smoke. It certainly didn't do anything for him anymore. He had no breath. He had no pulse. No way for his dead lungs to pass on the nicotine and carbon monoxides into his bloodstream. At best, it was nothing more than an oral fixation left over from his humanity. And yet here he was, staring out into the night sky and working on the remains of his second pack of the day. 'I really should quit.' He thought to himself, crushing the paper and cellophane package and tossing it over his shoulder. 'Then again, it's not like it would kill me.'  
  
He fingered the tattoo on his left wrist, circling the blue emblem of the Society of Watchers with a slender finger. His father-in-law, Joe Dawson, was a watcher. Still was, as far as James knew. 'Though the fallout from my defection would probably cost 'dear old Dad' his position. Perhaps he'd be stuck with a cushy severance. Forced retirement, they call it now. A slightly more PC term for getting your ass kicked to the curb.' But why would he care? This was all part of his plan.  
  
It was a "chance" encounter at the university library during his senior year. He was captain of the rowing team and majoring in business, she was a mousy little sophomore majoring in 18th century French poetry, or some such nonsense. A few coy glances from him and shy smiles in return, and six months later, they were engaged and she dropped out of university. A successful stint at a prestigious investment house in New York caught the eye of his father-in-law. 'A little job on the side,' Dawson had termed it. 'Just keep an eye on this guy for me. Let me know what he does, where he goes.'  
  
'Sure,' James replied with a smile. 'Anything for family.'  
  
So he kept up with the dutiful son routine for two years, rising through the ranks with ruthless efficiency before he saw his opening. A few of his 'mates' were bitching about their posts. Simple shadowing and surveillance, wondering if that was all they were really good for. And the travel really sucked. So over a pint or two at a local pub, he let slip what he really thought of them. The Immortals. 'After all, why should we just sit back and watch while these creatures decided the future of mankind?' It didn't take much to get them to agree. Fools.  
  
He laughed, and stamped out the remainder of the cigarette with his heel, then headed back down into the tunnels. "Like I care about the fate of Immortals. Once I ascend, they will all bow before me!"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Giles stepped aside, as Cordelia and Brian entered his apartment without so much as an invitation. Any feelings of irritation were quashed by the looks of pain and fear written on the teens' faces. 'On the other hand,' he mused. 'obviously they can't be vampires, barging in uninvited like that.'  
  
He contemplated calling Buffy's mother, knowing that this was just the type of mission the Slayer would be needed for, but unfortunately Buffy's concussion would prevent her from even coming to the phone, especially so late on a school night. He breathed deep, calming his anxious mind. He had no idea what to expect from this boy. And Cordelia was even more of a question mark in his mind. "How long have they been gone?" Giles asked to begin to sort through the available information.  
  
Cordelia didn't even look up as she began to load up on the crossbow bolts from the open weapons foot locker that Giles had dragged into the living room. She barely glanced at her watch. "Forty-nine minutes."  
  
"Er, yes. C-Cordelia, where did you get t-that crossbow?"  
  
Cordelia stepped into the Horton's stirrups and pulled back on the thick black bowstring with what Giles determined to be more than a casual familiarity. "From Brian. Fifty minutes, Giles. The clock is ticking."  
  
Giles stood slackjawed at the brunette, before turning his eyes to the younger man. "Brian, what do you need from me."  
  
"Weapons, ammunition. Information. The location of the vampire's lair." Brian replied evenly, tying his scabbard so that it hung across his back and angled slightly to his right for easier reach. Then he grabbed a pair of stakes, throwing one to Cordelia, who strapped it inside the sleeve of her Sunnydale High cheerleading sweater with a leather holster from Giles' weapons trunk, while Brian tied his stake to a leather strap around his forearm. It was out of the way and well-concealed. Once Cordelia finished tying the strap down, she reached for a small English short sword, tying the scabbard behind her shoulder. She checked herself in the mirror, feeling entirely ridiculous loaded down with weapons while decked out in her cheerleading uniform.  
  
Giles chuckled tiredly. "The location of the Master's lair?" Brian nodded. "One does not simply walk into the Master's lair! The gates to his dominion are guarded by more than just common fledgling vampires. This is the oldest living vampire in the Watcher archives. Heinrich Joseph Nest is over eight hundred years old, maybe more. No one truly knows for certain. He leads the most powerful clan of vampires on the face of the Earth."  
  
Cordelia glowered at the Englishman. "And he has Xander and Willow. So, do you know the way or not?"  
  
Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them with a handkerchief. "Er, n-no, I don't."  
  
"But I do," a voice called from the arched alcove the linked the living room to the bathroom and kitchenette. A handsome man with dark hair and wearing a black suit coat, a plain white t-shirt and dark pants walked in.  
  
"He's a vampire!" Brian shouted, stepping forward with his stake in hand and murderous intent in his eyes.  
  
Giles interrupted before Brian could object further. "Brian, please calm down. I invited him here."  
  
The Herald blinked a few times in disbelief. "You invited him here. You invited a vampire into your home?"  
  
"Angel is different, Brian. He has a soul."  
  
"So?" The young man turned to Angel. "A soul, huh?" Angel nodded evenly. "And just what remarkable thing did you do to deserve something like that?"  
  
Angel's eyes darkened at the memory, and he hung his head slightly. "I murdered a little girl, and her family cursed me to feel guilt for eternity."  
  
Brian made a face, somewhere between disbelief and apathy. "Great, so you're a child murderer on top of being a vampire! That sure makes me want to trust you."  
  
"Do you want my help, or not? I could just go home right now. See how well you find your way through the Master's caverns without me." Angel turned to leave, but was stopped by Giles.  
  
"Brian, we have no time for this... petty bickering. He is the only one I know, or trust, to lead us to Xander and Willow."  
  
Brian scowled, and reluctantly nodded for Angel to lead the way. "Just so you know, Angel. If this is a trap, you'll be the first to die."  
  
Angel nodded, and turned to leave. Cordelia and Brian shared a dark look before following the souled vampire. Giles reached back for a vial of holy water, several stakes and his sturdy wooden cross before hurrying to catch up to the group.  
They reached the entrance with no difficulty, a sewer grate near the Bronze that led to a cracked portion of the electrical subsystem. Brian stayed at the ready just behind Angel, sword drawn and certain this was a trap. Cordy notched a bolt into her crossbow and taking up the rear, constantly checking behind them.  
  
"Boy, you people sure know how to pick 'em." Brian groused, sniffing disdainfully at the brownish layer of film coating the worn down electrical tunnel. Tepid water collected in pools where the concrete was no longer level, either by faulty construction or the myriad of tremors, earthquakes and aftershocks that have plagued these passageways since their construction.  
  
Angel bristled from the slur. "You people?"  
  
He nodded, refusing to be apologetic. "Yeah. What, should I come up with a less insulting name for you? You are demons! I don't like you. I don't want to like you. I don't have to like you. Because of you people, Willow and Xander have been kidnapped, possibly being tortured to death." He narrowed his eyes at Angel. "Or worse."  
  
"Brian, that's enough!" Giles raised his voice as much as he dared, risking alerting the Master of their presence. "May I remind you, that Angel has a soul. He is fighting on our side now."  
  
Brian snorted derisively and looked away. "I have seen plenty of evil things done by people with souls. And so help me God, I will..."  
  
Angel had had enough of this boy blaming him for everything bad in this town, shoving Brian roughly in the shoulder. "You'll what? You may think you're some kind of bad ass waving that sword..."  
  
"Enough!!!" Cordelia cried out, her shrill voice echoing down the tunnel, frightening several unusually large rats and causing them to scurry back into their hidey holes. "You are wasting time. My time. Xander's time. Willow's time! And if you two think you're a bunch of bad asses, I swear by all that's holy that I will beat the fucking shit out of you two if you don't shut the Hell up and start walking!"  
  
Giles, Brian and Angel all blinked at the sudden violent outburst from the young woman. Giles felt the need to reprimand her for her profanity, but the look in her hazel eyes clamped down any further thought on that subject. "Uh, yes. Cordelia is quite right. Time is of the essence here. So let's not waste any more of it with this petty bickering and find Xander and Willow before it's too late." He hefted a vial of holy water from his lapel pocket in one hand and a held out a sturdy wooden cross in the other. He ducked his head against the narrower entrance to the catacombs, trying to avoid the filthy water that threatened to ruin his fine tweed suit.  
  
Angel and Brian stared off at one another, and likely would have continued, had Cordelia not purposely bumped into Brian on her way into the corridor. With one last glare, Brian turned and followed the two humans, silently swearing to God his vengeance on any who harmed Willow and Xander. 


	9. Chapter Eight

**__**

Chapter Eight

'I never had any time

And I never had any call

But I went out of my way just to hurt you, 

The one I shouldn't hurt at all

I thought I was being cool

Yeah, I thought I was being strong

But it's always the same old story

You never know what you've got 'til it's gone

If I ever catch up with you

I'm gonna love you for the rest of your life

All I need is a miracle, all I need is you…'

Mike and the Mechanics, 'All I Need Is A Miracle'

Xander finally got the bleeding on Willow's forehead tended to. It would probably scar, he concluded sadly, marring her perfect skin. But what really worried him was her shivering. Sure, it was getting cold in the dank hole of a cell, but Xander couldn't tell if her reaction was from the chill in the air or from her going into shock. Regardless, he pulled her petite form into his arms, rubbing warmth back into her upper arms.

Willow closed her eyes and sighed. She was so cold that she felt her fingers and toes going numb. When she felt his arms wrap protectively around her torso, she felt a moment of happiness. She allowed herself to luxuriate in his body heat, before the guilt set in. This wasn't right, she knew that. He didn't love her. But that was okay, she realized. She didn't love him, either. Cordelia loved him. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would not have believed it. But as she considered Cordelia's feelings over the years, it actually explained quite a bit. She sat up, divesting herself of his arms and looked at him. "Xander, we can't."

"Can't what?" Xander replied, confused.

"You know what I'm talking about. Back at my house. We can't. Ever. I'm with someone now."

She felt more than saw the frown form even in the dim lighting, then she felt his reluctant nod. "You really love him, don't you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know about being in love, Xander. We've only known each other for a few days. But I do care about him, and I think maybe… I could love him. Someday." Then she looked at her surroundings. "If we ever get out of here."

Xander felt a sting in his heart. She loved him. She wouldn't admit to him, but he knew his Wills. This was her attempt at trying to let him down easy. After all this time, he never would have guessed it would be her letting him down. As much as it hurt, and it hurt a lot more than he would have ever guessed, he would not stand in the way of her happiness. "Willow," he pulled her close. "I promise you, we will get out of here."

Despite Cordelia's warning, Angel and Brian sniped at each other quietly, each comment getting nastier and more personal. First the comments started with Angel asking mock-innocently if the sword and the sportscar were compensation for other deficiencies. Cordelia and Giles were certain Brian was going to decapitate the souled vampire for it. Instead, Brian sized Angel up and kindly let him know that he was flattered for the attention, but he liked women. Later after Angel asked Giles why Buffy wasn't there, and under his breath Brian called Angel a pedophile and Cordelia and Giles had to step in between the two.

"He started it, Giles." Angel remarked, turning his head away from the thick wooden cross pressed near his face.

"Frankly, I don't care, Angel. Willow and Xander are being held here against their will, and all the two of you seem to be able to do is argue amongst yourself like little children!" Giles let out an exasperated sigh, and pinched at the bridge of his nose, hoping to massage away some of the tension that was building. "Brian, quite frankly, I don't understand this attitude. I have told you already he is on our side. I trust this man. Why can't you?"

He sheathed his katana over his shoulder, and placed his arms across his chest defensively. "The Frog and the Scorpion, Giles."

Angel rolled his eyes and turned away, continuing to lead the small group further into the Master's lair. Giles sighed again, pocketing the cross, and following the vampire down a rocky slope and placing a hand out to steady his descent. Brian started to follow, but a hand on his shoulder stayed him.

"The Frog and the Scorpion?" Cordelia asked.

Brian nodded and offered her a hand as she stepped onto the loose stones. "It's an old fable. One day, a scorpion looked around the mountain where he lived and decided he wanted a change. So he set out on a journey through the forests and the hills. He climbed over rocks and under vines and kept going until he reached a river."

Once Cordelia had reached the bottom, Brian hopped down the gravel, riding it like a wave. He jumped at the end, then stood and brushed at the dust on his pants. "So, anyhow, the river was wide and swift, and the scorpion stopped to reconsider the situation. He looked but couldn't find a way across. He checked upriver, then he checked downriver, all the while thinking he may have to turn back.

"Suddenly, he saw a frog sunning itself in the tall grass by the bank of the stream on the other side of the river. He decided he would ask the frog for help to cross the river.

"'Hello, Mr. Frog!' The scorpion called out across the water. 'Would you be so kind as to give me a ride across the river?'" Angel took a look back and glared at the younger man. Brian returned the look with equal vigor, and continued on, ignoring their guide. "'Well now, Mr. Scorpion! How do I know that if I try to help you, you won't try to kill me?' The frog replied hesitantly.

"'Because,' the scorpion replied. 'If I try to kill you, then I would die, too. For you see, I cannot swim.'

"Now this seemed to make a bit of sense to the frog, but he still had his reservations. 'What about when I get close to the shore, you could kill me then.'"

"The scorpion agreed. 'I could, but then I wouldn't be able to get across the river.'"

"Alright then, how do I know you wouldn't wait until we're across, and _then_ kill me." Brian gave a caustic look to Angel's back, then continued. "'But you see,' the scorpion replied. 'I would be so grateful for what you did, that it would hardly be fair to reward you with death.'"

"So the little frog agreed to take the scorpion across the river, carrying him on his little froggie back. He swam easily across the swiftly moving river and settled near the mud of the bank to let his new friend, the scorpion, catch a ride on his back."

"Halfway across the river, the naïve little froggie felt a sharp sting in his back. He looked back and saw the scorpion removing its stinger from his back. 'You fool,' the frog cried out as he could no longer swim. 'What have you done? Now we'll both be killed! Why on earth would you do that?!'"

"The scorpion did a happy little dance on the back of the drowning frog, even as the water rushed up to claim him. The scorpion shrugged. 'I could not help it. It is in my nature.'" Brian finished. "And I don't trust Angel, Cordelia. He is a vampire. Soul or not, at the end of the day, he's still a vampire. And it's in his nature to kill."

Cordelia nodded, not certain if she agreed with Brian's fable, but agreed that Angel couldn't be completely trusted.

The four came around a corner that led to a four-way intersection, with two vampires standing guard at a naturally arched hallway. Angel sent up a hand to stop their advance. They looked around. There was little chance they could rush the vampires without making too much noise, or risk them alerting any reinforcements. It was too far. A drip of water his Giles in the shoulder, and Brian looked up to track the source of the water.

A series of pipes lined the roof of the tunnel, and a plan began to form in his mind. He stretched once and leapt high into the air, grasping at the pipes with both hands. He smiled when they held his weight easily.

"What are you doing?" Cordelia and Giles asked simultaneously. Angel looked up in surprise to see Brian hanging off the water pipes, his legs wrapped securely across the pipes leaving his arms free.

Brian immediately held up a finger to his lips to quiet them. Then he pointed to the two guards, both armed with handguns. Giles noticed them and his eyebrows raised a fraction: vampires weren't well known for using guns when they could get their hands dirty. But then again, it wasn't quite unheard of.

The Herald rocked on the pipes to test their strength. They held easily, and made no noise while he rocked them. Perfect. Brian began a slow upside-down crawl across the roof of the sewer tunnel.

Cordelia frantically pulled on Giles' arm. "Giles! What does he think he's _doing_?" She whispered as loud as she dared.

Giles turned and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, then shrugged and turned back to watch Brian's unsteady progress across the pipes.

Brian reached the halfway point, and looked behind him, throwing the group a jaunty wave. Cordelia rolled her eyes and smiled, wishing they could just get to Xander and Willow. This waiting was causing her skin to itch and burn. She absently began to scratch at an exposed portion of her forearm, creating a red streak across her tanned skin.

Brian got within ten feet, and felt a sense of relief that the vampires had not noticed his climbing. Eight feet, and his foot caught on a pipe coupling, pulling at the old and water damaged concrete foundation. Cursing to himself, he reached back to try to dislodge his shoe, only to have his support hand slip off the slick dust-covered pipe. He fell head-first towards the hard ground, only to be stopped by his foot still firmly wedged into the space between the ceiling and the water pipe, dangling about three and a half feet from the cement floor.

The group gasped collectively as Brian began his headlong dive to the ground. "Bloody hell," Giles muttered. "This boy is going to be the death of me." Then they all rushed the guards.

Now that got the vampires' attention. The surprised vampires turned to see a young man hanging upside down by his foot. They looked once at each other then back at the boy, then smiled. The closest one strolled casually up to the prone figure. "Well, well, well. Lookie what we got here."

Brian sighed, still struggling to release himself from his prison. "Oh, not that line again. What, can't you people come up with some better lines?" He reached behind his shoulder as the vampire leaned in, his clawed hands aiming for his throat. He retrieved his katana from its sheath, sat up and slashed at the pipe, instantly releasing his foot and sending him sprawling to the floor in a torrent of water. The guard stopped short as the boy fell hard to the floor.

Brian felt something give in his left shoulder as it hit the ground hard. He cried out in pain, and saw blinding stars dance in his field of vision. _'Stupid. Stupid! STUPID!'_ Brian berated himself. _'You thought you'd get clever and try and do this by yourself.'_ Grunting, he hefted his sword with his right arm and slashed out blindly, taking off the guard's right arm at the shoulder. The vampire roared in sheer agony, his head heaving back and howling out his rage.

"So much for the element of surprise." Angel groused, catching the wounded vamp in the chest with his wooden stake, then catching the second vamp with a back kick that sent it tumbling to the floor. The vampire rolled out of the fall, and ran back at Angel. Angel sidestepped him, and caught his opponent with a knee to the midsection, followed by a stake in the back that pierced his heart.

Giles helped the fallen Herald to his feet, careful to avoid his wounded shoulder. "Brian," The Watcher sent a reproachful look down to the younger man. "Just what did you think you would accomplish with that foolhardy stunt?" He began to examine Brian's wounded shoulder, immediately noticing it was separated.

Brian hung his head. "Sorry, sir. I was just…"

"Trying to show off? Perhaps show up Angel just a bit?" Giles inquired gently. "I understand your reluctance to trust the man…"

"Vampire." Brian bit out painfully.

"Right, vampire." Giles agreed. "The point is…"

"No, Giles. _Vampire_!" Brian pointed over Giles' shoulder with his healthy arm.

The Englishman turned in time to see a large vampire hurtling itself towards the two. Angel was too far away to help, he had been checking the entrance to the cavern for reinforcements.

A burning sensation caught Giles across his shoulder and he flinched and grasped at the wound. He looked back up in time to see his attacker collapsing into a pile of fine gray residue, a crossbow bolt embedded into its chest.

"Hey, I got him!" Cordelia crowed, loading another bolt into her crossbow. "Are you two alright?" Brian and Giles nodded, and smiled their thanks.

"Nice shot." Giles remarked, rubbing at the thin red line across the skin of his shoulder where the bolt had grazed him.

Cordelia paled. "Oh! Oh, God! Did I do that? I'm so sorry, Giles."

"Quite alright, Cordelia." Giles comforted her as he daubed at the scratch with a handkerchief. "All things considered, this is nothing. Aside from the blinding pain, it's just a flesh wound." He turned back to Brian, who was still wincing from the separated shoulder. "Brian, hold steady."

He braced the Herald against the wall and without any preamble, snapped Brian's arm back into its socket. Brian screamed, and felt his knees buckle. Cordelia and Giles caught him and held him steady while he rode out the blinding pain.

James looked up from his computer terminal, as the scream echoed through the halls. "They're coming."

Jessica paused from her typing, reveling in the pain. "Shall I inform the Master?"

He shook his head, and motioned for her to continue her work. "That's alright. I'll do it."

The scream Willow woke from her fitful sleep in Xander's arms. She dreamt Brian was coming for them. Was that what she heard? She twisted her way out of Xander's grasp, listening for anything else to give her any sign. But all she could hear was Xander's rhythmic breathing and his occasional mumble about Cordelia. She grinned, a day ago that might have bothered her. Now, she knew what her heart wanted. It wanted Brian, and it wanted Xander to be happy. If that meant Cordelia, well, she could learn to live with it.

Brian fought at the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. His arm felt like it was on fire, and stars danced across his field of vision. He took several deep breaths before steadying himself enough that he felt he could continue. Cordelia hovered over him, her hand tracing comforting patterns on the bicep of his good arm.

"Are you sure you're okay? That had to hurt." She commented idly.

Brian looked up at her, a wry smile spoiled by the grimace of pain. "You _think_?"

Cordelia laughed. "Brian, what _were_ you doing back then? You know you should have been killed. If not from the fall, then from the vampires. You were lucky Angel was there to protect you."

He blew out an agitated breath. "Don't remind me." He turned to face her, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Cordelia flushed at the touch, and lowered her head. "I was… trying to impress you." Cordelia smiled, and he lowered his head in embarrassment. "I was hoping to prove to you that we didn't need him." Brian jerked his head in the vampire's general direction, his distaste for Angel evident.

Cordelia sighed. On some level, she agreed with Brian. That in the end, Angel was a vampire and could not be trusted. But in the here and now, they had not choice but to follow his lead. "Yeah, and look where _that_ got you. Do you really hate him that much?"

Brian held her gaze for a moment, then turned away. "I don't hate him, really. I just don't _trust_ him. Honestly, Cordy, are you willing to put your life and Xander's in his hands?"

She frowned, considering the implications. "Do we have a choice, really? Either we follow his lead, or we try to find a way in by ourselves. Personally, I'd rather have a guy that knows where he's going and can watch our backs, than try to sneak in ourselves. Besides, Giles trusts him."

Brian agreed. If Giles trusted Angel, then he should at least give him a chance. "Yeah, but if he tries anything funny with Willow, he ends up in a jar on my mantelpiece." Brian concluded darkly, earning a shiver from Cordelia. She could tell he meant every word.

She nodded and fell into step with him, as Angel and Giles led them into the real mouth of Hell. And Cordelia questioned her decision with every step. Should she trust Angel? She hoped so, but she had the cold, sickening feeling in her stomach telling her she may not get out of this alive.


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine 

_'Verlassen Sie Alle Höfnung…'_ was painted crudely above the main cavern entrance in large redbrown brush strokes, causing Cordelia to stare at it in confusion for a moment. "Giles? Is that Russian or something?"  
"German, actually." The librarian replied, looking up to scan the graffiti. He fuddled with his glasses for moment. "My German is a bit rusty, and the grammar is sketchy at best possibly due to age, but I believe it reads _'Abandon All Hope…'_"  
The brunette rolled her eyes, "Lovely. It's never 'Welcome, please wipe your feet before entering.' It's always the message of gloom and doom written in a virgin's blood."  
Angel's head shot up. "How could you tell it was written in virgin blood?" Giles and Brian turned to look at Cordelia in wide eyed astonishment.  
"You mean, it..." Cordy paled and felt herself grow nauseous. "Oh! Eeew!"  
"Angel, are you really expecting us to just march right in the front door and ask them to return Willow and Xander?" Brian asked.  
Angel sighed. "No, this is the front door. It'd be suicide." Then he pointed down a long and dark hallway. "That is our road." "Back door, huh?" Brian replied, then nodded his agreement.

"So, Giles. How much do you know about this Master?" Brian asked later.  
Giles paused for a moment, trying to remember his information on the venerable master vampire. "A-according to the Watcher files, Heinrich Joseph Nest was a holy man in the Bohemian Lands of what are now Austria and Hungary. He was born to a wealthy land owner and, as was the custom with the youngest son, he became a priest and traveled with Sigismund on his Crusade against the Ottoman Empire, where they were soundly defeated at the Battle of Nicopolis. According to the reports, Nest fell during the retreat as he stayed to tend to the wounded soldiers. "As he lay dying on the darkened battlefield, he was approached by a cloaked man who offered to heal him, never realizing that his savior was Aurelius, leader of the most powerful order of vampires the world has even known."  
Angel actually stopped walking at this point, content to hear Giles' story. Brian threw him a sour look and nudged him to continue with the flat of his blade. "Time's wasting, Angel. Move it."  
"Er, as I was saying. Nest quickly rose through the ranks and became Aurelius' chief lieutenant as his horde drove across Europe, cutting a swath of death and destruction for generations, stretching from as far east as Moscow to as far west as London. In fact, many of the plagues attributed to that time were not actually plagues, but a series of bloodwars between vampire houses."  
"So, what happened to this Aurelius guy?" Cordelia asked.  
"If memory serves, he was killed by the Slayer of that time. An Italian girl, if I'm not mistaken. Francesca Bennini was her name. Rumor had it, Nest personally allowed her access to Aurelius' bedchambers. Then to save the Order's honor, he snapped the girl's neck and sold her corpse to a local butcher."  
"You're saying he sold her… as meat?" Cordelia turned a pale shade of green, and her skin became sweaty and cool. Even Angel, who had been a joyful and willing participant in literally tens of thousands of acts of cruelty and malice, found that particular revelation nauseating.  
"Yes, well… t-the report may have no real value to it. The Watcher assigned to her, a James Worthington, I believe, went rather mad and had to be placed in an asylum. He committed suicide not long after that." Giles concluded.  
"This just couldn't get any more disgusting." Cordelia commented between dry heaves.  
"Actually," Giles interjected. "The rumor was that the er… _meat_ was then sent to London and was summarily fed to the High Council as a message from the House of Aurelius."  
"I stand corrected."  
"Do you think it's possible that we can save this jog down memory lane until after we get to Willow and Xander?" Brian offered angrily.  
"You know," Angel grumbled. "This would be a whole hell of a lot easier if you hadn't nearly put Buffy into a coma earlier." Brian stopped short, turning around to glare at the vampire. He put a hand to his mouth in mock guilt. "Oh, gee, is the baby killer angry I gave the Slayer a headache?"  
Giles and Cordelia both muttered. "Here we go again."

Xander woke with a start, choking back a cry. He had dreamt of Cordelia. That, in itself, was not entirely uncommon. What was different from this normal teenage fantasy was she wasn't naked in this dream. From what little he could remember from the quickly fading vision, she was coming closer to him, reaching out to him. He felt peace and tranquility envelop him as she neared him. But just before they could touch, she was yanked away by a hideously scarred vampire, who pulled her away. "Cordy. Cordy's coming."  
Willow, who couldn't get back to sleep, turned inside his arms to face him. "I know." He looked at her strangely for a moment, before she explained. "I dreamt Brian was looking for us."  
"Something's wrong, though. I think it's a trap."  
Willow nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I know. We're the bait."

He could hardly contain himself. The Four were coming here. The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Coming to join him, to free him from this prison he had been rotting in for the last sixty-one years. He sat forward in his highbacked throne, facing down the crucifix across from him. A surviving remnant of the earthquake of 1936, one of the few items from the church that no one removed. As much as it still caused him pain and fear, the Master left it. To learn to endure it. To master it.  
He sat up straighter in his throne, considering his new lieutenants, and laughed. "It will be glorious. _Glorious_!" He stood up suddenly, slackjawed. Never in his six centuries had he witnessed an event quite like this. It seemed the wooden statue of the Savior mounted on the wall had begun to cry.  
He looked around the room, wondering if anyone else had seen it. But of course not, the room was empty. He had dismissed them all when James had come with news of the Herald's arrival. He rose and stepped to the icon, barely controlling his own fear.  
As he reached out to sample the tears emanating from the Lord's countenance, the statue moved and it's head looked up to gaze at the Master with eyes full of fire. "I shall strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers." The icon spoke harshly, a deep echoing growl that seemed to come at him from all sides, causing the Master to step back in fear. "And you will know my name is The Lord when I lay my _vengeance upon thee_!" The Master froze in a panic as the Christform reached out to touch him, the wooden hands splintering and cracking as they tore away from the wooden planks. The Master raised his hands to ward away the holy figure, a scream of pure terror rising in his throat. "_Nooooooooo_!" His head snapped up and he blinked away his surprise.  
The Master found himself back in his throne, his eyes scanning the room. Had he screamed aloud? What blood still pumped through his veins from the earlier meal brought to him by his lackeys rushed to his cheeks in embarrassment. Several minions looked up in confusion, before going back to their dinner consisting of a homeless person. He turned to James, who was busy scribbling notes into his palm pilot. "James?"  
"Yes, my master?" Horton dutifully replied, inwardly cringing at having to act subordinate to this tired old man.  
"From now on, no more Quentin Tarantino movies." He growled.  
James sighed inwardly. "It shall be as you direct, my Lord."  
The Master glanced uneasily back at the crucifix. Was that a message? A warning from the Powers That Be to stay away from their servants? Or was it just nothing more than his subconscious voicing unspoken uncertainties? He didn't know for certain and for the first time since being brought across, he felt real fear.

The bickering ended relatively quickly, Brian coming to the conclusion that arguing with Angel wasn't really worth the effort. It certainly wasn't making him feel any better, and he could tell it was only making Cordy feel worse. He could see she was still scratching absently at a patch of exposed skin on her forearm. "Cordelia, what are you doing?" Brian whispered to the brunette, not wanting to call everyone's attention to her actions just yet. But he couldn't hide his worry.  
She looked at him curiously. "What are you talking about?"  
He pointed with his eyes down to the inflamed portion on her arm. She tracked his gesture and was shocked to see she had nearly torn the skin from her arm. Wide tracks of red cut from her wrist up to her sweater top. She pulled her arms in tight to her chest, embarrassed at her behavior as well as Brian noticing it. "I guess I'm just nervous. What if we don't find them, Brian? I think I'll go crazy if we can't find them."  
Brian nodded and pulled her close, nodding his agreement. "I know exactly what you mean." He pulled up at the sleeve of his jacket, showing off a wicked stretch of bloody skin. "We need to tell Giles about this. This can't be normal."  
"No," she whispered emphatically.  
"But" Brian started.  
"No, Brian. Not yet. They can't know. It's too hard. Just… not yet, okay?" She interrupted. "Just hold my hand. It doesn't hurt as much when you do." She reached out and gripped his hand, a lot tighter than he was expecting. The fire swimming beneath his skin lessened a bit when she touched him, making it almost tolerable.  
"We're going to have to tell him soon. You know that, right?"  
"I know. But just not now."  
He sighed. "Alright, but if this starts to become a serious distraction, then I'm going to have to tell Giles." Cordelia looked as if she was about to protest, but Brian cut her short. "No arguments."

"It's starting to get to them." Angel whispered.  
Giles nodded, watching as Cordelia took hold of Brian's hand. Holding on for dear life. "Indeed. Frankly, I'm surprised they've lasted as long as they have. And it would go a great deal smoother if you wouldn't continue to bait him like you have done."  
"Well, this would be a lot easier if Buffy were here." Angel protested.  
Giles half-turned to face him. "Probably. But that was not necessarily his fault, Angel. It was my decision to have them train together."  
"But you weren't the one who sent her through an audiovisual cart. Excessive for sparring, don't you think?"  
Giles frowned, getting a little agitated at the vampire himself. "You know, Buffy had just tried to send him through a cinderblock wall. A case could be made that she started it, not Brian." He removed his glasses, reaching for a handkerchief to clean the lenses. "And for the future, I suggest you adopt a more lowkey approach to Brian and Cordelia for the immediate future. For your own safety."  
"I can take care of myself, Giles." Angel muttered. "I've got a couple centuries of experience on him."  
"Well, then you've forgotten that his teachers have a combined age somewhere in the neighborhood of four and a half millennia." Giles pointed out, earning a blink of surprise from the elder vampire. Forty-five hundred years? "They're bound to have taught him a trick or two that even you have not learned. And must I remind you once again that we are fighting towards a common goal?"  
"I haven't forgotten, Giles. But he hurt Buffy. I just can't let that go."  
"But you're going to have to. You can't fight all her battles for her, Angel." Giles reminded him. "She may still be a child, but you can't protect her forever. You can't, and she won't want you to."  
"And neither can you." Angel bitterly replied, and he instantly regretted it. It was callous and unfair, preying on the fears that he knew plagued the Watcher at every moment, and he apologized immediately. He couldn't tell if his criticism came from jealousy for the bond Giles shared with Buffy somewhat akin to a father's love, or perhaps from the fear in his heart that knows Buffy's time on earth is extraordinarily finite.  
Giles was silent for a long moment, and the vampire squirmed under the pressure of his own thoughtlessness. "It's… alright, Angel. Buffy and I both understand the risks inherent in our callings. Truthfully, I don't know whose calling is the worse. Hers for knowing she will die so young. Or mine for knowing it, but not being able to do anything to prevent it." He then sighed deeply. "And be forced to live on."  
Angel stopped to consider that, realizing at once how selfish he was being. About a whole host of things. And he realized that his love for Buffy was still something of a childish love, not yet realizing that she was an imperfect creature filled with her own strengths and weaknesses. It forced him to reconsider his first impression of Brian. His immediate dislike and mistrust was fueled primarily by a one-sided report from Buffy of their fight. And possibly the same reason he took an instant dislike to Xander he viewed them both as a direct threat, despite Brian's feelings for Willow and Cordelia's for Xander. And while the boys did not do much to help him reevaluate his position, he was two hundred and forty-one years old. Shouldn't he know better?  
He sighed, and swallowed down the remains of his embarrassment. "I've been behaving like such a child." Angel mumbled to himself, not intending for anyone else to hear.  
Giles had stopped and was looking at him, a wry smile on his lips. "Perhaps," he commented idly, putting a hand on the vampire's shoulder to comfort him. The vampire's cheeks flushed, the cup of microwaved pig's blood he'd consumed rushing to his face and casting an unusual rosy glow against his normally ashen white skin. "But no more so than any of the others." Angel looked as if he would protest Giles' attempts to reassure him, but he stopped short. "Thanks, Giles."

The group came to an intersection of sorts not much later as the artificial concrete and steel constructs gave way to more natural formations. The caverns were dark and sinister, no longer filled with the shifting shadows created by torchlight but with a cold that seeped into your bones. The walls were still jagged, consistent with years of tremors, earthquakes and aftershocks. Like the eruption that trapped Nest in his underground prison. Putrid water pooled in ankledeep puddles, probably coming from stress fractures in the sewer lines above them. The cavern ran at a gentle sloping downward angle, winding deep into the dark.  
The last visible segment of the tunnel showed it branching off in two directions. Brian and Angel both had the best night vision and though Angel's natural night vision far exceeded his, Brian was unwilling to allow him to lead them. So Brian lead the way with Giles readying his stake and heavy wooden cross and Cordelia watching their backs with the crossbow.  
"So, which way?" Brian asked over his shoulder.  
Angel paused. Long enough to cause Brian to stop and Giles and Cordy to slam into Angel like a human train wreck. "What's the deal, Angel? I nearly fell into a puddle of that crap on the floor. It's bad enough I'm gonna have to burn these shoes, but if I have get another manicure, so help me…"  
"Angel?" Giles inquired gently. Tensions in the group were high enough already.  
Brian stepped forward, after helping Cordelia to her feet. "Angel, which way?"  
The vampire bit at his lip for a long moment, before he finally answered. "I… don't know." Brian was on him in less than a second, pinning Angel to the rough stone wall with his left forearm and lifting the vampire several inches off the ground. His other hand was reaching over his shoulder for his katana. "You have five seconds to explain. One… two…"  
Giles's heart rose into his throat, partly through surprise and partly from anger. "Angel?"  
"Three." The katana slid easily out of its scabbard with a gentle scraping whistle. "Four." The edge was pressed up to Angel's throat, a slight trickle of blood flowing down the blade.  
"Wait, Brian. Don't." Giles intervened. He turned to their guide. "Angel, I think you'd better explain… and quickly."  
Though unnecessary, Angel swallowed reflexively opening the wound slightly. "Uhh… well, it's like this…"  
Before anyone could blink, Angel placed his left foot over Brian's, then drove upward and forward into Brian's groin with his right leg. Brian immediately doubled over in shock and pain, instinctively pushing backward. His foot, however, was still pinned underneath Angel's boot, causing the Herald to stumble backwards into Giles and sending them both to the stone floor. With a smooth transition, Angel grasped at the hilt of Brian's katana and turned it on its former master.  
"I knew it! Cordy, shoot him!" Brian snarled.  
Biting out a curse, the cheerleader brought the crossbow to bear and fired off a single bolt. At such close range, it would be more powerful than a .38 caliber pistol. If it connected with its target.  
As fast as anything she'd ever seen, Angel spun laterally and snatched the bolt out of the air with his bare hand. So shocked, Cordelia hesitated to squeeze off her second shot. That gave the vampire all the time he needed to act. But rather than move in for the kill, Angel slammed the sword into the ground, burying it a good four inches into the granite. "I meant what I said. I don't know which way to go. I've never been this far in. It's not like I've got an engraved invitation saying 'please stop by and take a look around our hidden fortress.' I haven't even spoken to the Master in 237 years. And the last time I did, I insulted him. They probably hate me more than they hate you, you know." With a huff, Angel handed over the crossbow bolt to Cordelia and walked away.  
"Oh, well. Isn't this just perfect!" Cordelia huffed as she reloaded the bolt. "What do we do now?"  
Brian finally untangled himself from Giles and stood up, then offered a hand to the older gentleman. "Well, there's two choices. Either we pick one, or we split up."  
"Either choice presents its own danger." Giles mused. "I suggest we split up. Brian, since you and Angel have… certain issues, I suggest he and I take the passage to the left. You and Cordelia can take the passage to the right."  
Angel turned back to the conversation. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Giles. They could be anywhere in this place. We should stay together."  
"And while we wait, they could be torturing Xander and Willow" Cordelia reminded them. "I don't care which plan we take as long as we take one sometime today!"  
Brian seemed lost in thought, the conversation light years behind him. The voices faded away as his focus narrowed, until all that was visible to him was the gathering dark of the underground caverns before him. The shadows began to coalesce before him, a shape stretched from the darkness, and Brian at first thought it was a servant of the Master that had found them. He reached behind him for his sword, but stopped short. His blood turned to ice in his veins as he recognized the shape. "D-D-Darius?"


End file.
